


Try, Try Again

by ThisSpaceIntentionallyLeftBlank



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014), The LEGO Movie 2 (2019), The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part (2019)
Genre: Canon Compliant, For the most part, Gen, Rex lives tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2019-11-23 12:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisSpaceIntentionallyLeftBlank/pseuds/ThisSpaceIntentionallyLeftBlank
Summary: This is a Rex lives AU where, at the end of the movie, the flux capacitor is not destroyed, and Rex escapes to the past. This time, he arrives with a new plan in mind - one where he can toughen Emmet up while simultaneously keeping a closer eye on Lucy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This my first time using AO3 as well as writing fanfiction in general, so please be patient if I mess up the tagging or formatting or, uh, a million other things as well.  
> You can also find this fic, as well as a few other posts, on my tumblr @thisspaceintentionallyleftblank. I've already been posting on there for a bit, which is why I'm uploading these first chapters all together.

The Rexcelsior appeared in a brilliant flash of light, with bright bolts of raw electric power coursing across its hull before flickering away into nothingness. The ship, despite the dark blue of its exterior, stood in stark contrast against the backdrop of space due to the faint glow of its many humming engines. Inside, pacing back and forth across the main control bridge, an increasingly anxious Rex was attempting to re-evaluate his master plan.  

He had come much too close to failure for comfort. If he hadn’t used his Deus Ex Block-ina at the last moment in order to teleport back to the ship, then Lucy could have very well destroyed his flux capacitor and, by extension, everything that he’d worked and suffered for. His scowl deepened at the thought of all that planning, effort, and pain flushed down the drain because simply because he’d failed to properly prepare for every possibility.

The weight of failure sat heavily on his shoulders. _It’s not fair_ , he thought. _I was so close_. His plan had been so perfect, and he’d carried out the execution flawlessly. Tricking Emmet and destroying the Queen’s space temple had been child’s play. All they had left to do was make a clean getaway, but… everything had just started falling apart.

Rex hadn’t wanted to take Emmet to Dryar. If he had had any other option, he wouldn’t have. But, of course, Emmet hadn’t given him a choice, had he? Emmet was just being stubborn; he just didn’t _understand_.

Rex couldn’t be blamed for that.

He stopped pacing. The repetitive motion had started making him nauseous at some point. With a weary, tough-guy sigh, he walked over to the main console. The instruments adorning the dash lit the room with a soft, ambient blue glow. On top of them sat the Block-ina, a conveniently pocket-sized tool that apparently taken up the worrisome habit of intermittently spitting out sparks and smoke sometime between now and when Rex had first left it here.

Another sigh escaped Rex at the sight of how badly it had been damaged. He wasn’t especially broken up over the loss of the device, after all it had served its purpose well, and he could just build another one pretty easily.

_Of course_ , he thought bitterly, _I wouldn’t have even needed to use it if it hadn’t had been for..._ her.

He had been surprised when Lucy had shown up in Undar, having never entertaining the thought that she might have followed him. Thinking about it made something in his gut twist uncomfortably. She must have… It was… She had probably come there to stop him personally, right? Finding Emmet was just a nice bonus, was all. That made a lot more sense, in Rex’s opinion. After all, Lucy had always been about the world-saving, rebel hero aesthetic. The knot in his gut unraveled, content with his explanation.   

However, if Lucy was willing to go that far in trying to save the world, then Rex couldn’t afford to let her get the drop on him a second time. He would just need to keep a closer eye on her this time.

Rex smiled, an easy cocksure grin. A new plan started formulating in his mind, one in which he could easily arrange to keep watch on Lucy, with her being none the wiser.

“COBRA!” He barked out, turning away from the console. A nearby raptor stopped typing, twisting her long neck to look over in his direction.

“Give me a current time readout on the Giant Screen.” At his command, the raptor nodded and clicked a few buttons on her keyboard. Turning back to the windshield, Rex watched as the display flickered to life, printing out the date in an oversized, white, blocky font.

JUNE 4TH   | 06:20   | MONDAY

Rex hummed in approval. “Excellent work, team. Looks like we’ve got a whole week left before Our-mom-agedon starts.” With a smug grin, Rex leaning onto the dashboard, adopting a particularly cavalier pose. “Obviously,” he continued, “that’s waaay more time than I’ll need to work my magic.”

A raptor screeched from somewhere in one of the weapon hangers. _“Does that mean we could take a day off?”_

Rex laughed.

“No.”

If raptors could sigh in resignation, they would have done so now. As it was, they settled for screeching slightly quieter. Unfazed, Rex continued with some gratuitous exposition.

“Here’s the plan, squad. We should begin to break orbit over Apocalypseburg shortly after o’eight hundred hours. At that time, we’ll activate the super secret cloaking technology that I lifted from Wonder Woman’s invisible jet. Once we’ve landed, I’ll find Emmet and get him onboard.”

One of the raptors screeched up at him questioningly. _“How will we find Emmet?”_

Another raptor, one standing near the fax machine, screeched back. _“I could make wanted posters!”_

“No need,” Rex replied dismissively. “It’s a Monday.” Mondays were Lucy’s day to patrol the wasteland, which meant that she and Emmet would have to hang out in the morning, before she left. Usually that meant that he that Emmet would start his day off with a coffee run and then meet up with her afterwards.

“If we play our cards right, which of course we will, then we can intercept him at the base of the Statue of Un-Liberty.” Rex tapped a few of the console’s controls, pulling up a large digital map of Apocalypseburg. A blinking red dot appeared at the spot he’d described.

“Everyone got that?” Rex asked, watching as a sea of raptor heads started bobbing up and down in affirmation. “Awesome. Start bringing us into orbit then. Meanwhile, Ripley, Connor, I want you two to start readying the cloaking device.” The raptors screeched to confirm their orders, and then turned to their respective workstations with a renewed sense of urgency.

Leaving them to their tasks, Rex once more turned his attention to the windshield. The sounds of raptor noises and clicking keyboards seemed to fade into the distance. Somewhere beyond the dark glass, Apocalypseburg was waiting. With a start, Rex realized that, after everything that had happened to him, he’d gotten so distracted with time travel and scheming that he had just, never bothered trying to go home.

For a moment, he wondered when exactly that had stopped being one of his goals.

At the thought, a cold, hollow feeling seeped into his chest. It was an almost alien sensation, one that he thought he had left behind in the deserts of Undar. Fortunately, Rex was tough now. He knew how to deal with these kinds of feelings, how to patch and fill the places of him that felt empty. His tool of choice, anger, had never failed him yet.

Summoning strength from his internal well of rage, Rex clenched his fists at his sides and forced his mouth into a vicious grin.

_I’m going back home_ , he thought, _and_ _those suckers aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em._

_*******************_

The sun was shining in Apocalypseburg this morning. Sure, it shone every morning, to the point that it had long since baked the ground into desert sands, but that fact didn’t mean that Emmet couldn’t enjoy a little bit of morning sunshine.

As usual, electronic strains of music were playing in his ears as Emmet jauntily made his way towards the giant statue on the edge of town. He was beginning to consider singing along with the peppy song when something else suddenly drew his attention.

It had only lasted for a second, but Emmet would have sworn he’d just seen a shooting star. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on his wish.

_More wishes_ , he thought as hard as he could, _more wishes, more wishes, mo-_

“Hey there, buddy!”

Emmet’s eyes snapped open at the sound of someone’s voice. Sure enough, standing in front of him was a stranger, some guy in blue, with disheveled hair and a cocky grin.

“Whoa,” Emmet whispered to himself. Something about this stranger seemed to exude charisma and toughness. Maybe it had something to do with the way he was trying to inconspicuously flex his biceps. Whatever it was, Emmet was definitely intrigued.  

“Hi there!” He shouted, causing the stranger to flinch slightly at his volume. Abashedly, Emmet shrugged off his headphones.

“Sorry about that, friendo,” he chuckled. “Um, but my name’s Emmet! What’s your name? Are you new here? I feel like I’ve never seen you before. Which is weird because I know like, everybody here.” Emmet bobbed up and down in excitement.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there, compadre!” The stranger laughed as he strolled towards Emmet, stopping at his side and giving him a friendly, albeit rather forceful, slap on the back.

“Oh,” Emmet jolted forwards from the impact, juggling his cups in an attempt to not drop either of them. “Sorry about that.”

“Why don’t you just take a breath, and I’ll introduce myself.” The stranger walked over to a nondescript hunk of debris, kicking a foot up onto it and striking a cool pose - one which would have likely made a dope freeze frame.

“The name’s Rex Dangervest,” he announced loudly. “Ace spaceship pilot, world-class dinosaur trainer, and all-around tough guy extraordinaire.”

He took a dramatic pause, before stepping back down, and continuing. “And, I've been looking for you, Emmet.”

“For me?” Emmet asked incredulously. “But why?” For a moment, his face grew uncharacteristically serious. “Did Jeff send you?”

“No, no, no,” Rex replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m just a big fan of yours.”

“A fan of mine?” Emmet’s jaw dropped. “But why?”

“Well, you’re the Special, right? Emmet Brickowski? The guy that saved the universe from Lord Business five years ago?” Rex stepped in closer, swinging an arm around Emmet’s shoulder.

“I… I guess?” Emmet sputtered. “I wasn’t _really_ the Special though, you know.”

“So what,” Rex shrugged nonchalantly, causing Emmet to glance up in disbelief.

“So- So what? But it- that- I wasn’t really a hero! That’s so what. I know you’re new here, but seriously, just ask anyone and they’ll tell you that I’m not.”

“Really?” Rex asked, a hard edge entering his tone.

“Yeah,” Emmet’s voice grew soft, as he lowered his gaze. “I’m, um, not tough enough, they say.”  

Rex hummed thoughtfully, stroking at his chin in a deliberately pensive motion. “Not tough enough, huh?”

“Yeah,” Emmet replied. “I mean, I don’t really get it, if I’m being honest. Personally, I’m not a fan of all the spikes and stuff, but still. It’s what everyone says.”

“What if I could fix that?”

“What do you mean?” Emmet looked back up at Rex, who was grinning widely now. _What a friendly guy_ , Emmet thought.

“What if I could help you become tougher? Become the guy that all your friends want you to be?” Something eager bubbled up in Rex’s voice as he asked.

“I don’t- ”

“Become the guy that _Lucy_ wants you to be?”

In retrospect, this should have been the moment that Emmet realized something was terribly wrong about this interaction. There was no way that this stranger could have known Lucy’s name. However, in the moment, his thoughts were somewhere else. Yesterday, he’d asked Lucy if he might be able to patrol with her, just once. She’d said no, on the grounds that “things can get like, really _real_ out there, Emmet”. He saw the look in her eyes, like she was kind of scared for him, or maybe just disappointed in him. He saw that look a lot recently.

But, if he was tough… like Rex was promising… then maybe things could change.

“Okay,” Emmet said, his newfound conviction clear in his voice

“Hah! You made the right choice, kid.” Rex reached up and ruffled Emmet’s hair with a gloved hand. “Come on then, and I’ll show you to my ship.” Rex started to walk off, with his arm still around Emmet’s shoulder, but Emmet didn’t move to follow.

“Oh, um,” Emmet muttered, as Rex turned to look at him suspiciously. “It’s just… I’ve got to meet up with Lucy first. I always get her a morning coffee before we hang out and talk. But, uh, if I explain that I can’t stay today, she’ll totally understand.”

“Emmet, I want you to take a look at this.” Rex reached into one of his vest pockets, pulling out a small, colorful flyer. Emblazoned across the front was an advertisement for _Rex Dangervest’s Toughness Seminar and Obstacle Course_.

“Can you tell me what it says in the small print at the bottom?” Rex asked, pushing the paper towards Emmet’s face.

“Um, it says ‘ _A Once in a Lifetime Opportunity’_.”

“That’s right.” Rex’s voice was low and serious. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Do you know what that means, Emmet?”

“That one of my shooting star wishes came true?”

“No, Emmet. It means that I’m only going to make this offer once.” Rex’s grip tightened on Emmet’s shoulder. “If you don’t come with me now, then you’ll be stuck as a soft, hufflepuff loser forever.”

Dread pooled in Emmet’s gut at the thought. A future of disappointing his friends? When the chance to make them proud was right here?

“I mean, I guess Lucy will understand if I have to miss one hang out sesh...”

Rex’s benevolent smile returned. “Exactly! And think about how happy she’ll be when you show her how tough you’ve gotten.”

“Yeah!” Emmet cheered. “You’re right! And then we can hang out even more because I could do patrols with her and the other guys.”

“Totally,” Rex agreed. And, while maintaining his firm grip on Emmet, the two walked off into the desert.

_*******************_

It wasn’t very far to the Rexcelsior, but it still took a while. Rex had made it to Emmet so fast earlier because he’d done a super cool flip out of the hanger bay while the ship was still a few hundred feet above ground. Of course, that meant that now Rex wasn’t… _super sure_ where the ship was parked. Fortunately, the Rexcelsior like most top of the line vehicles had come with a keychain dongle that made the ship beep obnoxiously whenever pressed. Rex had pawned the thing off on Emmet, who seemed pretty content with pressing the button over and over. In return, Rex had taken one of the coffee cups and started helping himself to its contents.  

Emmet wasn’t really drinking from his cup anymore. Rex had said that drinking black coffee was the first step to becoming tough, but the caustic, bitter taste was making it a pretty tricky first step to master. Little sips made it much more tolerable, but also unfortunately made the drink take even longer. Emmet’s own cup must have been pretty bad too, seeing as how Rex kept making comments about how gross and sugary it was. He had finished it awfully fast, though.

_Probably because he’s already so tough_ , Emmet thought, taking another tiny sip of his still disappointing coffee.

When he next pressed the dongle button, the previously distant beeping was much closer than he’d expected.

“We’re here.” Rex said, as he took the keychain back from Emmet’s hand and stepped past him.

“Really?” Emmet asked, looking around in confusion. “So, is your ship just like… really small?”

Rex snickered. “Not quite.” As if on cue, the ship materialized, looming impressively over the two men.

Emmet gasped, and continued to gasp for such a long time that it almost seemed like an action designed to garner laughter from an adoring studio audience. Rex stood nearby, patiently waiting for him to run out of air.

“This,” Rex gestured dramatically once he had regained Emmet’s attention, “is the Rexcelsior - the absolute toughest ship in the universe.”

A panel hissed open behind him, prompting Emmet to gasp once again. With a huff, Rex took his arm, pulling the two of them together into the maw of the ship. Once through, the door slid shut behind them, and the ship vanished back into transparency.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ok, good buddy,” Rex gestured down the ship’s cavernous hallway. “Let me give you the tour.” Emmet nodded mutely, and the two began walking deeper into the bowels of the ship.

It was a truly awesome sight. Emmet felt like he couldn’t even begin to describe how incredibly cool this ship was. Everything around him seemed to whir and buzz and shine. Even the floor beneath him hummed in time with the heartbeat of the engines, their electrical power streaking around him in bundles of glowing conduits. High above them, the looming ceiling was nearly obscured by a network of criss-crossing catwalks, upon which amorphous, shadowy figures were moving quickly back and forth. 

“Are those,” he asked dumbfoundedly, “real  _ velociraptors _ ?”

“Oh yeah.” Rex replied with a sly smile. “Turns out, raptors make a killer spaceship crew. You’ll get the chance to meet most of them while you’re here.”

Emmet squealed in excitement. “Really?!”

“Yup,” Rex answered as they turned a corner, entering an even larger room. “This,” he explained, “is the main hangar bay.” Around them, multiple small spacecrafts sat scattered about, all of them in various stages of completion. Huddled around one of them was a group of raptors, clearly hard at work repairing the little ship. 

“Could I- Can I go meet them?” Emmet asked, pointing as subtly as he could towards the dinosaurs. 

“Of course! Why don’t we get some introductions out of the way?” Rex clapped a hand onto Emmet’s shoulder and steered him over towards the maintenance crew. 

“Emmet,” Rex started, “I’d like you to meet Reacher, Mace and Jean-Claude.” He turned to the raptors. “You three, I’d like you to meet Emmet.”

The raptors screeched back various greetings; although, the one wearing a welding helmet, presumably Jean-Claude, was rather muffled.

“Hey everybody,” Emmet gushed. “I’m like, super pumped to meet all of you.”

The raptors smiled up at Emmet as friendly as they could. Being velociraptors, their smiles consisted mostly of bared serrated teeth and a sense of predatory instinct, but Emmet didn’t really seem to mind. 

“Alright, time to move along.” Rex began leading Emmet out another door in the hanger bay. “Keep up the good work, crew,” he shouted over his shoulder as they exited.

“Where are we heading now?” Emmet asked. 

“The main surveillance room. It would take to long to show you every place on this ship, so I figured we could save sometime by heading there.”

At the end of this hallway sat a set of elevator doors. Rex pressed the button marked “up” and, no sooner than he had done so, the doors flung themselves open. Stepping inside, Emmet could see yet another raptor. Eagerly he hopped into the elevator carriage to introduce himself. 

“Hey, there!” Emmet crowed. “My name’s Emmet. What’s yours?”

_ “SHARON.”  _

“It’s super nice to meet you, Sharon. Where do yo-” Emmet choked mid-sentence, as the elevator had begun ascending at an incredibly rapid pace. Above the door, the floor numbers were dinging on and off in a frenzy. Trying not to fall over, Emmet reached out, grabbing onto Rex’s vest. 

Rex, who was seemingly have no issues maintaining his balanced, chortled. “Sorry buddy, probably should have warned you about the Veloci-Lifts, huh?”

Emmet didn’t trust himself enough to open his mouth, so he settled for a few, vigorous nods. 

When the elevator finally stopped, Emmet staggered off, still clutching onto Rex with one hand. Behind them, Sharon pressed another button inside the lift and the thing took off with a tremendous whoosh, soaring still higher into the ship. 

Once he’d regained his bearings, Emmet began to notice that this floor seemed to be filled with nothing but large, swiveling monitors, each of them twisting to look at the two new arrivals. In the center of the room, another raptor sat comfortably in a desk chair, munching away on a doughnut. 

“This is the surveillance room?” Emmet asked in a subdued whisper. 

Rex nodded, and pointed Emmet towards one of the larger screens. The image was kind of grainy, but he could still make out a room filled with shelves and cabinets that the raptors were navigating around with mixed success. “This here is weapon hangar 37, where I keep all the laser guns that go ‘ _ pew-pew _ ’, and this,” he tapped at the screen and the image flickered to a slightly different room, “is weapon hanger 432, where I keep the laser guns that go ‘ _ neee-yow _ ’.” 

“An important distinction,” Emmet concurred heartily. 

Rex tapped the screen again, and this time the image shifted to show a large auditorium. A wide, blank screen hung in front of the cushy-looking seats, most of which were filled with members of the crew. 

“A movie theatre?” Emmet asked eagerly. “Do you guys have the film adaptation of ‘Honey, Where Are My Pants?’”

“That’s a hard no.” Rex shot Emmet a sidelong glance. “We only stock cool, mature films. You know, PG-13 kinda stuff.”

“That’s pretty hardcore.”

“Heh, not as hardcore as this!” The image changed again, revealing a smaller room stocked with a variety of workout machines and dumbells. Raptors in headbands and legwarmers were diligently lifting their weights and helping spot each other. 

“Man,” Emmet muttered as he leaned in to look at the monitor curiously. “Those raptors must be really strong.”

“Pshh, not really,” Rex explained. “I had to get rid of all my  _ really _ heavy weights because they were making it too hard for the ship to take off.” Rex flexed, displaying his substantial biceps and inadvertently leaning against the screen. 

“Wow! Do you really have a slide in here?” Emmet cried, staring at the new image with eager fascination. “How fun is it?”

“Excuse me? Nothing on this ship is  _ fun _ , kid. That right there is a tactical chute, which is way,  _ way _ tougher than a slide.”

Emmet didn’t look particularly convinced. “What exactly makes it tougher?”

“I painted flames on the side.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Moving on,” Rex pressed the screen more forcefully than was perhaps necessary. “Here’s the barracks.” On screen, a number of raptors were shown sleeping peacefully in their bunks. The resolution wasn’t the best, but Emmet thought one might have been holding a teddy bear. He leaned in to look closer, but the image changed again too quickly to tell for sure. 

“What’s this one?” Emmet asked. The new room had been nicely furnished with a sitting area, a kitchenette, and a few vending machines. It looked almost out of place considering the other rooms he’d seen.

“Oh, that’s just the break room.” Rex grumbled. “It’s super un-tough, so you won’t spend much time in there.”

“Why do you have it?” 

“Eh, it was one of the raptor union requirements.” Rex shrugged half-heartedly. “I didn’t want to fight them on it. Plus it got Conan to stop using my mini-fridge.”

Emmet nodded seriously. “I see. I see.”

“Oh, here we go,” Rex declared as the image shifted into an aerial view of a huge room, filled to the brim with dinosaurs working at computer stations. “This is the main control bridge. We’ll be heading up there next.”

Emmet groaned. “You mean we’ll have to take the elevator again?” Rex just laughed in response and started pulling Emmet back towards the lift doors. 

This time, Emmet managed to get ahold of the handrail before the lift started screaming its way upwards. Now that he wasn’t tipping over, the ride was a lot more enjoyable. It was a little bit like a roller coaster even.

Seeing the doofy grin plastered across Emmet’s face, Rex couldn’t help but think back to the first time he’d met himself. That version of Emmet had been just as impressed by the ship, the cool gadgets, and even Rex himself. It was validating in a way, to know that Rex had succeeding in becoming the best, the coolest, and the most ideal-est version of himself. For a brief moment, he considered the possibility of just staying on the ship with Emmet. Maybe this time, things would go right. This time, Emmet would see that Rex was  _ right _ . 

_ No _ , Rex thought, his smirk sinking into sneer.  _ I won’t make the same mistakes twice. I’m Rex Dangervest. I don’t scare away from a tough situation or a risky plan. I’m tough enough to do this.   _

Eventually, the elevator came to a halt, and the doors hissed open to reveal the bridge. A few raptors looked over at their arrival curiously, but the majority remained focused on their work. Behind the rows of desks and computer monitors, the giant window displayed a picturesque view of the harsh desert outside. 

“Oh my G-O-S-H gosh!” Emmet cried. “This is the coolest moment of my life. Which is saying something, because I once saved the world.”

Rex snorted, before quickly regaining his composure. “Emmet, I’d like you to meet the best pilots in the universe. I’d trust each and everyone of them with my life. Except for Rambo.” Rex turned to glare at a raptor standing at the water cooler who returned his gaze with equal animosity. 

“Ooooo-kay, then.” Emmet sidled past Rex and began peering at the main console. “Man,” he exclaimed. “I never realized how many buttons a spaceship came with. Benny would love this!” He turned to look back at Rex. “Can I press any of them?”

“You can press any of them that you want. That’s part of being tough, Emmet. Taking control of a situation and just pressing every single button your little heart desires.”

Gleefully, Emmet practically danced up and down the dash, pressing nearly every button available. Each one seemed to beep or glow in their own unique manner, which only served to delight him further. 

“Okay,” he panted. “What did I actually do?”

“Nothing.” Rex replied.

“What?” Emmet’s delighted grin dropped.

“The ship’s grounded, Emmet.”

“Oh,” Emmet chuckled, “I mean, yeah. I knew that. Obviously.”

The lift doors suddenly clattered open, interrupting Emmet’s poor attempt at saving face. A raptor stepped out into the room, carrying a bundle of something over to where Emmet and Rex were standing.

“Good work, Ripley.” Rex took the delivery from her, holding it up to reveal a dark blue uniform with a bright orange swatch across it. 

“Whoa,” Emmet couldn’t help but admire how cool the outfit was. “What is it?”

“It’s your spacesuit, Emmet.” Rex rolled his eyes. “You can’t honestly expect to travel on this ship without one, right?” He pushed the suit into Emmet’s hands. “Now why don’t you go try it on?”

Beside him, Ripley screeched.  _ “FOLLOW ME.” _

“This is gonna look so awesome,” Emmet muttered to himself as he followed Ripley into the lift. 

As he watched them leave, Rex’s smile faded, his expression quickly taking on a more serious complexion. 

“Bullet,” he called out, and a raptor with a clipboard and headset came over to stand by his side. “I need to talk to you about… The Contingency Plan.”

“ _ THE ONE WHERE WE RUN AWAY, GET CONCEALING FACIAL HAIR, ADOPT NEW NAMES AND ACCENTS, AND BEGIN A NEW LIFE AS NON-TRADITIONAL COLLEGE STUDENTS, OR DO YOU MEAN THE OTHER CONTINGENCY PLAN?” _

Rex stared blankly for a moment. “I- I obviously mean the other one.” He fixed Bullet with a scrutinizing look, “Is that first plan even one I’ve ever suggested?” 

“ _ NO _ ,” Bullet replied, “ _ BUT I THOUGHT IT’D BE HELPFUL TO CLARIFY. _ ”

Rex sighed, running a hand down his face. “Of course, you did.” He turned to face the raptor. “Could you just... write down the  _ actual _ plan? I need all the raptors on board to be ready to go when I give the signal.”

_ “GOT IT, BOSS.” _

Bullet walked back to her station, scribbling furiously at her clipboard and leaving Rex alone with his thoughts. Emmet seemed to be enjoying his time on the Rexcelsior, which was good. And the raptors had all been briefed on the general plan, so that they all knew what needed to be done in order to toughen Emmet up. This new plan for Our-mom-aggedon was perfect. Utterly flawless. Rex had only established The Contingency Plan because he’d more than learned his lesson about planning for unlikely outcomes.  _ That’s why _ , he thought to himself.  _ That’s the only reason. _

“Hey, Rex!” Emmet leapt out of the elevator, and, watching him nearly bouncing in excitement, the smile came back to Rex’s face easily. “Rex,” Emmet asked, “do I look tough yet?”

“That’s an affirmative, buddy.”

Emmet beamed. “Do you have a spacesuit too? What does yours look like? Are you going to put it on?”

“Well,” Rex shrugged. “Mine’s pretty much the same as yours, except that I won’t be needing mine.”

Confusion twisted Emmet’s brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t stick around, kid. I just came onboard to give you the tour. The raptors are gonna take care of the rest.” Rex smiled genially, hoping to less the disappointment.

“Oh,” Emmet’s face fell. “I was… really hoping that we’d hang out some more, that’s all.”

“Well,” Rex forced out an upbeat tone. “That’s just the way it’s gotta be. I mean, after all, _ someone’s _ gotta tell your friends that you didn’t just run off, right?”

“I guess that’s a good point.” Emmet’s crestfallen expression seemed at odds with his agreement. Once again, Rex entertained the tempting notion of staying on the ship. After all, training Emmet seemed a much more welcoming task than stepping foot into Apocalypseburg. 

“Well,” Rex found himself saying. “Even though I can’t stay, we can still maintain communication with each other.” Striding over to one of the equipment cabinets bookending the dash, he opened the door and retrieved two radios. 

“Here’s yours.” Rex passed one of the devices to Emmet. “The raptors all know how to use them so, uh, if you have any questions then just ask anyone.”

“Thanks, Rex.” Emmet looked down at the radio with adoration. Abruptly though, his expression shifted slightly as a new thought occurred to him.

“Hey Rex, uh, just for curiosity's sake, how long is the toughness seminar supposed to last?” 

“A week,” Rex answered quickly. “Uh, give or take, that is. It depends on you really. But,” he grinned widely and leaned closer towards him, “you’re a pretty fast learner, right?”

 “I’ll do my best!” Emmet returned Rex’s smile. 

“I know, buddy.” Rex straightened himself and turned towards Ripley, who had been getting uncomfortable standing there unaddressed for so long. “Meet me in the super secret antechamber in two minutes. Bring the stuff.”

_ “ON IT, BOSS,” _ Ripley screeched and trotted out of the room.

“Hey, what was-”

“Emmet,” Rex interrupted. “I’m giving you free range of the ship starting now, okay?”

“Really?” His previous question vanished from Emmet’s mind, quickly superseded by the literal stars in his eyes.

“Really.” Rex gestured towards the elevator. “Now, why don’t you go make yourself at home.”

“Ok, Rex.” Emmet ran back into the elevator. “I won’t let you dow-!” His shout was cut off abruptly as the doors slammed themselves shut.

Taking a moment to steel himself, Rex began making his way to the super secret antechamber. The ship didn’t really have many private rooms, but this one had been necessary. After all, only a fool would leave relics lying out in the open.

With a practiced hand, Rex found the false panel in hallway 2-J and tapped out the intricate keycode. The panel receded into the surrounding wall, creating an opening into the dark room. As he stepped inside, the lights flicked on, revealing his motley collection.

The most prominent object, resting in the center of the room on a raised table, was a large permanent marker. The black, felt-tipped pen had been crucial for Rex’s transformation, but it wasn’t what he was looking for right now. Instead, it was a nearby tall plastic vial that housed the substance that Rex needed - yellow paint. 

His hand steady, Rex dipped the applicator into the viscous liquid and, turning to a close by reflective panel for a mirror, applied the paint carefully, so as to hide his new facial features. With broad strokes he covered up his stubble, thinned out his eyebrows, and obscured his sharp cheekbones.  

Next, he brushed his hair. He’d long since lost his hairbrush, so he used his fingers as best he could to part his disheveled mop of hair into the same, neat style he’d worn for so many years.  

Moments later, Ripley entered the room, carrying with her the final piece of his disguise. 

“Perfect,” Rex murmured as he took Emmet’s work clothes from her. “Excellent work.”

_ “OF COURSE.”  _ Ripley screeched, and turned to leave. 

It only took a few seconds for Rex to shrug on the new clothes, leaving his own in a heap on the floor. His new plan was finally beginning to come together now. 

He stole one more look into the mirror before he left. 

Emmet looked back at him with an unreadable expression.

_ We won’t have to do things the hard way this time, Emmet _ , he thought,  _ not unless you force my hand again.  _


	3. Chapter 3

Lucy was currently perched in her favorite spot in all of Apocalypseburg. Up on Lady Un-Liberty’s torch, with her legs hanging over the edge and the cool wind ruffling through her hair, everything seemed to slow down momentarily.

On the city streets, which stretched out far below her feet, everything was constantly rowdy, chaotic, and loud. It was excitingly surely, and all wrestling and fighting could be fun, but sometimes, Lucy just preferred coming up here instead. 

Of course, it also made an excellent spot for brooding. 

For Lucy, brooding was an art form. It was edgy and mature and, if you did it right, people would recognize that you were edgy and mature as well. On a basic level, brooding was a bit like poetry. It all came down to the words that you used, and the way that you said them. It was a skill that Lucy had in bounds, and was one of the reasons why she’d been such a good songwriter when she was younger. 

Reaching up, Lucy absentmindedly pulled at a strand of her hair. It curled around her finger, the dark color shimmering in the sunlight. She had moved on from her pop star career a long time ago, but sometimes she found herself expected to see a different color in the mirror. The dye job had been necessary, as she reminded herself frequently. She’d had no choice but to change herself in order to be taken seriously by the other Master Builders. When they’d first seen her, looking like the preppy idol on a Business-brand record label, they hadn’t seen a rebel or a freedom fighter. All they’d seen was a symbol of the establishment. They’d seen her as the girl she wasn’t anymore - the girl that she couldn’t be anymore.     

With a quick glance at her phone, she checked the time. Emmet would be arriving any minute with their morning coffee. If she started brooding now, she probably wouldn’t be finished by the time he got here, meaning that he’d likely try and join in again. 

Emmet had… tried brooding with her a few times, but usually those attempts just devolved into him talking about a random topic in a slightly more gravelly voice. To be fair, the approach had worked reasonably well the time he’d aired his grievances with Jeff, but the rest of his topics, such as his views on toasters and hi-vis vests, had been significantly less successful.  

Lucy sighed. She wasn’t really in the mood to brood today anyways, and had basically resorted to waiting up here for Emmet to show up and help take her mind off things. She liked it here in Apocalypseburg, much more than she had ever liked living in Bricksburg. There, she had been forced to choose between either being a cog in the Business machine or a criminal constantly on the run for her life. In Apocalypseburg, she felt like she could be more herself than she had been for a while. Despite the newfound sense of freedom, the city could still get overwhelming sometimes. 

Whenever it did, sitting up here with Emmet was like coming up for air. 

She checked the time again. At some point during her ruminations, the clock had shifted well past eight and begun closing in on nine. A sharp sense of worry started seeping into the back of her mind. Emmet had never been late before. Ok, well, he  _ had _ , but it had only been the once, and even then it was because he had fallen into the sewer baby pit and had taken over an hour to pick out all the little spikes.  

Not for the first time this morning, Lucy caught herself peering over the edge of the torch platform, down towards the base of the statue. Below her, a well timed tumbleweed trundled past, clearly signifying the lack of any happy-go-lucky ex-construction workers.

_ Uugh _ , she thought with a deliberate roll of her eyes,  _ I’d better go find him before he gets hurt _ . The dread that had started building settled slightly at the thought. In a flash, she turned from the edge and started running down the statue. With a little under an hour left before she needed to meet up with Batman and patrol, she ought to have enough time to ask a few folks around town if they’d seen anything.

As usual, the streets of Apocalypseburg were populated with crowds of people, clouds of desert dust, and the odd barfight or two that had gotten wild enough to spill out onto the street. Lucy strode confidently through, easily sidestepping groups of wrestling people and hopping over the several prone figures that littered the ground. Emmet’s favorite coffee shop was down this way, just past Benny’s shop, which made him a good first candidate for her search.   

Predictably, Benny was out front of his shop, working as always on improving Metalbeard’s new body. His workshop consisted mainly of a fenced-in platform, which had been lofted for the twofold reason of avoiding the madness of the street below, as well as preventing Benny from accidently setting another passerby on fire.   

“Hey Benny,” Lucy called out, as she expertly leapt up onto the platform.

“Lucy!” Benny cheered. He whirled around to greet her, dropping the wrench he’d been holding in his excitement. 

“Yar!” Metalbeard cried out as the tool tumbled down into the construct of his body, ricocheting off various components before clattering to the ground.  

“Oops,” Benny laughed. “Sorry about that...” Turned back towards the pirate, he floated up slightly, such that he could rummage around, searching for his wrench.

“So Lucy,” Metalbeard addressed her while staunchly ignoring the spaceman mucking about in his guts. “Are ye just popping by for a visit, or was there something ye needed?”

“I was wondering if you guys had seen Emmet yet today.” Lucy stepped forwards as she spoke, picking up the wrench from where it had fallen and passing it to Benny. “He was supposed to meet me at the top of the statue a while ago, but never showed up.”  

“Thanks,” Benny took the wrench from her and twirled it absentmindedly in his hands as he spoke. “Yeah, Emmet came by this morning. He had his coffee, was listening to his music, and told me that he appreciates our friendship. You know, the usual!”

Concern creased Lucy’s brow. “Do you know when that was?”

“Earlier than usual,” Metalbeard grumbled. “Much too early for that accursed ‘pop song’ he insists on playing...”

Benny chuckled in agreement. “Yeah, the line at Larry’s must have been pretty short. It was maybe a quarter to eight.” At the thought, Benny frowned. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“I’m not sure,” Lucy sighed, unable to keep the worry out of her voice. “Just… let me know if you see him, ok?”

“Can do, lassee.”

“Sure thing!”

“Thanks guys,” Lucy gave a weak grin and leapt over the fence, falling to the street and leaving the two to their work.  

In an attempt to follow Emmet’s footsteps, Lucy continued down the street, occasionally pulling someone aside to ask them increasingly worried questions. The sewer babies had seen him, but didn’t know where he’d gone. Similarly, neither Chainsaw Dave, nor Crazy Cat Lady, nor any of her cats had any idea where Emmet could have gotten off to.

She had just finished questioning Battle Debra, who hadn’t even actually seen Emmet at all, when a dark shadow engulfed them both. In the next moment, Batman swooped down beside them. 

“Hey Lucy,” he growled, leaning against a nearby wall in a calculated effort to appear nonchalant. “You ready to go, or whatever?”

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “Let’s just make this quick, ok?”

Hurt by her dismissive tone, especially considering how cool his entrance had just been, Batman’s permanent frown deepened even further. “Uh, why?”

“It’s just that Emmet didn’t show up this morning. I’ve been trying to find him, but...” She trailed off momentarily, before adding bruskly, “I’m sure it’s nothing, but you know.” 

Batman grunted. “He’s probably just working on his little house.”

Lucy snapped her head up in surprise. “His what?”

“His little house. You know, the one he’s building out in the wasteland.”

“No, I don’t know.” Lucy pulled at her hair in frustration. “What, did he tell you? Did you see him this morning?”

“Pshh, no.” Batman smiled. “It’s like, supposed to be a surprise, but I  _ am _ the world's greatest detective after all.”

Lucy scowled at him, and his smug expression drooped slightly.

“Uh,” he faltered. “I also have like, a super huge telescope, so it was pretty easy to find.” 

Lucy groaned. “Ok then, fine. It's just… weird that he didn't mention it earlier. Usually he tells me everything.”

Batman shrugged. “I mean, I think it was supposed to be a surprise, uh, for  _ you _ .”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Um,” Lucy coughed into her hand, trying to clear her throat and in no way trying to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks. “I mean, I guess he’ll just tell me about it when he's ready…” 

Noticing the emotion steadily creeping into her voice, she hastily changed the subject. “Uh, we should definitely stop talking about this and go patrol, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Batman said. He pulled out a remote control from his belt and, with the click of a button, the Bataclysm shot out of a nearby alley, screeching to a halt beside them. In a fluid motion, the two flipped up their respective doors, leapt inside the vehicle and clicked the doors back into place. With a gratuitous squeal of the engine, the sleek black custom vehicle revved up and took off into the wasteland.

The process of “patrolling” usually entitled driving around aimlessly and fighting any random aliens that showed up. Whenever she patrolled with Benny or Metalbeard, they would routinely get distracted combing through the wreckage for cool pieces. But Batman had long since had collected all the black and dark gray pieces that he needed, and as such, he now went on patrols mainly to beat up the alien creatures. He was, as he described it, simply “working out his inner rage and turmoil through meaningless physical violence.”

Lucy wasn't really sure why she went on patrols. She wasn't really looking for supplies or a fight. It just felt like… the right thing to do. Like something that she had to do it, so that someone else wouldn't need to. In a way, it made her feel like she could protect their new home.

It made her anxious, the way that Emmet kept asking to tag along. She'd told him multiple times that she'd bring pieces back for him, and she knew that he didn't like fighting, but still, he kept asking for some indiscernible reason. Glumly, she looked out the Bataclysm’s tinted windows, watching the ruined skeletons of shattered skyscrapers as they slipped past. What was it out here that Emmet found so alluring?

Regardless of his motivations, she already knew that Emmet would likely never get to run patrols. He was just…  _ too sweet _ . He always had been. The way that he greeted everyone so cheerfully? The way that his grin never seemed to falter? The way that he  _ still _ liked fun popular music? Like, who did that? 

Not Lucy, that much was for sure. Lucy was cool and tough and edgy now. 

And Emmet? He just  _ wasn't _ . 

She had loved that about him, but at some point it had just transformed into a source of worry. The world had made it abundantly clear that everything fun and colorful was in danger here and, instead of changing himself accordingly in order to stay safe, like any totally sane and rational person would, Emmet had just stayed Emmet.

Lucy sighed, pressing her forehead into the cool glass of the window.

“Are you brooding right now?” Batman asked, turning to glower in her direction. “Because it’s my car, and the rule is that only the driver gets to brood.”

“I’m just… thinking.” She mumbled in a half-hearted reply.

“Oh, good. I wasn’t planning on thinking, so you can do that if you want.” Turning his focus back to driving, he cranked a dial on the dashboard, sending a shockwave of pulsating heavy metal music blasting out of the back seats to help fill the awkward silence between them. 

Ignoring him, Lucy went back to staring listlessly out the window. Maybe they'd encounter some aliens, and she could try distracting herself from her myriad concerns and personal insecurities with violence, like Batman always does.

_ Come on _ , she thought for perhaps the first time in the five years they'd been under siege.  _ Come on, let's see some aliens. _

There weren't any aliens.

In the end, all that Lucy had accomplished was sitting in a testosterone and leather scented car for two hours while listening to Batman talk about the power of abs or something. All in all, the experience had done little to help ease her thoughts on Emmet. 

To make matters worse, her stomach had begun growling something fierce. Caving to her body’s demands, she decided to postpone her search for Emmet until after a quick stop at her favorite lunchtime cafe -  _ Le Pain _ .

“Hey, Lucy!” As she entered, a familiar voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Emmet!” She cried, a fond grin forming on her cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Emmet laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous way he does. “Sorry about this morning...”

“But! Um,” He gestured towards the table he was sitting at, which had been clearly set for two. “I was hoping that I might be able to make up for it with some lunch?”

“Sure,” Lucy said, taking the seat across from him.  

“How was your patrol?” Emmet asked. 

“Eh, pretty uninteresting.” Lucy replied. She reached for one of the menus resting in the center of the table, and began perusing through the lunch items. “Apparently Batman has a kid now, but other than that nothing really happened.”

The waiter, a former french mime whose face had been repainted so to resemble a skull, walked up to take their orders. 

“I'll have an abnormally large croissant and a black coffee, please.” Lucy ordered, passing her menu back to the waiter.

“Same for me,” Emmet added, earning him a skeptical look from Lucy.

“Are you sure?” She asked, doubt apparent in her tone. “I thought you didn't like black coffee?”

“Well,” Emmet said, with a crooked, almost shy smile. “I’ve decided to take it up recently. So that I can be tougher, like you guys.”

“Oh?” Lucy’s expression reflected her pleasant surprise. “I'm glad to hear it.” 

After a minute or two, the waiter brought back their food, and the pair started to eat. As usual, everything tasted fine, but had a rather gritty texture. Living in a desert, there wasn't much a chef could do to keep out the sand - which, as everybody knew, was coarse, rough, irritating, and got everywhere.

“Hey Emmet,” Lucy said after a moment. “Was there… a particular reason you couldn't hang out this morning?”

“Oh,” he replied. “Well, I was going to tell you later, but I've actually started training. As part of becoming tougher, that is.”

“Training?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, like lifting weights and doing backflips and stuff. You know, tough guy stuff.”  

“Ok, right. That makes sense.” Lucy chastised herself for worrying. Here she was, worrying over Emmet for being too soft and vulnerable when in reality he was off working at becoming better and stronger. She felt almost foolish now for having run all over town looking for him.

Across from her, Rex continued to pick at his food. He hadn’t really eaten much since… before everything, and he was finding the experience more uncomfortable than he remembered. Logically, he knew that he should be making more conversation, asking Lucy about her day and her thoughts, and a billion other things like Emmet always had, but he was struggling to think of any conversation topics. He knew what kinds of questions he really wanted to ask her… but this Lucy wasn’t the one  that had left him in Undar  that had foiled his plans… so he knew he'd never get a satisfactory answer. 

A moment ago, he’d seen the worry on Lucy’s face when she’d asked where he’d been that morning. Then, as he explained that he was training, that he was tough now, her concern  had vanished, replaced with a soft smile. And now, as he finished his coffee, her smile had only grown bigger. 

She seemed overjoyed… ecstatic that “Emmet” was finally acting tough, just like she’d wanted him to be. 

Rex understood, of course. His time in Undar had been educational in that way, constantly hammering in the fact that being tough was the only way to protect yourself. Emmet needed to learn that; he needed to see that his cheerfulness and his optimism were idealistic, unsustainable, and paving the path towards suffering. 

But, for some reason, the thought was still upsetting. Anger roiled in the pit of his gut, turbulent and boiling hot, making it harder and harder to maintain Emmet’s constant dopey grin.

For a moment, it almost felt like he was resentful at how ready Lucy was to accept that Emmet was changing, how excited she was for him to totally overhaul his personality. Obviously, he couldn't be upset about that though, since he agreed with the sentiment. Rex had been responsible for sending Emmet away for training, after all.

He was just… still upset that she had ruined his plans last time.

That was all. 

Confident in his identification of the feeling’s source, Rex could then manipulate it, burying it underneath layers of swagger and machismo.  He had years of practice dealing with these kinds of emotions and had long since perfected the art of hiding and ignoring them. As such, his disguise remained perfect, his painted smile never wavering. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one I'm going to post tonight, but I'm planning on posting chapter 4 sometime next Sunday.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy was talking about something. She had been since shortly after they left the restaurant. Unfortunately, Rex hadn’t heard a single word that she'd said. At some point, she had taken his hand, and he had started having trouble focusing on her voice or pretty much anything else. 

Her hand was cold, but the contact was still enough to make Rex’s palm sweat. It felt clammy and wrong in a way he couldn't describe. A large part of him wanted to squeeze his hand shut, hurting her just enough that she'd pull away, but a distant, objective part of his brain recognized that it wasn't a very “Emmet” thing to do. Currently, it was taking all his focus to remind himself of that fact. 

Fortunately, a distraction soon appeared in the form of Benny floating down onto the street to greet them, with Metalbeard's head tucked into his arms.

“Hey guys!” He crowed. “You finally found each other, huh?”

“Yep,” Lucy replied amicably. “Thanks for your help earlier, by the way.”

Rex’s expression twisted in confusion as he turned to address Lucy. “Were you asking around about me?” A twinge of worry shot through him. He’d known that people would have seen Emmet this morning, but if they started prying then his cover story might be at risk.

Lucy didn't seem to notice his concern, too preoccupied with trying to hide her embarrassment over conspicuously worrying about Emmet.

“Uh,” she hastily replied, “I asked, like, a  _ little _ …”

“It’s a tough world out there, Emmet.” Benny floated over towards the two, coming to rest on Rex’s other side. “We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you.” The gentle grin on his face spoke to the genuineness of his sentiment.

“Ye gave us quite the scare there, Emmet.” Metalbeard piped up. 

Rex laughed uncomfortably. “Well, I’ve got good news then. You guys won't have to worry about me anymore.” He jerked a thumb up towards his chest, and crooked his smile into a cocky smirk. “I’m tough now.”

For a moment, Metalbeard and Benny just stared at him.

“Oh!” They started to laugh. “That's a good one, Emmet!”

“Ye had me going there for but a second, ye scallywag.” 

Rex froze. The muscles in his face and arms tensed uncomfortably. The red hot anger that had long been simmering in his chest felt like it was bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Deliberately, he forced himself to breathe through his gritted teeth, worried that if he tried anything more intensive, he would expose his ruse by moving or speaking too forcefully.  

Beside him still, Benny and Metalbeard looked as if they had expected him to join them in laughing, as if he'd deliberately said something funny. When he didn't, their own chuckles faltered.

“Guys,” Lucy said in a reprimanding tone. “Emmet has actually begun training in order to toughen up.” Her grip tightened on his hand. “He’s not joking.”

“Oh,” the spaceman blushed. “Sorry, Emmet.”

“It's just, ye never seemed the type.” Metalbeard muttered.

“But, um, good luck with your training!” With that, Benny launched himself and Metalbeard back up into the air, careening out of the now rather awkward situation.

Lucy watched them go for a moment, before turning towards Emmet with concern in her eyes.

“Are you ok?” She asked in a soft voice, placing her free hand on top of his, holding it captive.

“I’m fine,” Rex insisted, carefully maintaining his congenial grin. “But, um…” He shook his hand free from her grip. “Maybe we shouldn't hold hands. That way people can see that I really am tougher now.”

“Oh,” Lucy stammered, disappointment clear in her voice. “No, yeah, sure. That totally makes sense…”

She coughed awkwardly, lowering her gaze. “Um, anyways, I, uh, still need to meet up with Unikitty today. We’re going over modifications to our rocket launcher prototype.” Stealing a glance up at Rex, she continued hesitantly. “Would- Would you like to come with?”

Rex chuckled. “Shucks, how could I say no to that?”

With a relieved smile, Lucy started off back down the street. As they walked, she found herself surreptitiously looking over at Emmet. He did seem a little tougher, she had to admit, but he had also seemed really hurt earlier. Now, however, any evidence of that hurt had been erased, plastered over with his signature generic grin. He was looking around in a benignly curious way, watching the Apocalypseburg citizens mill about the busy streets.

As she watched him, he turned, abruptly meeting her eyes. Flustered, she flashed him an awkward smile, hoping that he hadn't noticed how she’d been staring. Emmet beamed back, before turning his attention towards the other pedestrians again. Lucy turned away too, but the smile didn't leave her lips. Emmet seemed fine, so obviously he was. If he was going through something, then he’d tell her. She was just… worrying over nothing, as usual. 

A familiar note sounded next to her, and Lucy grimaced internally as Emmet began whistling the opening chords of  _ Everything is Awesome _ .

She barely stifled a groan.  _ Good ol’ Emmet _ , she thought.  _ Ugh. _

_ ******************* _

Fortunately, it wasn’t terribly far to Unikitty’s cat tower, only about one and a half renditions of the song. Unfortunately, that was still more than long enough to get the accursed thing irrevocably stuck in Lucy’s head.

Unikitty’s current home was an imposing silhouette. It rose up from the desert sands in a single, tall spire, with an array of overhanging balconies at various levels. Sharp spikes adorned the outer surface in intricate patterns, most of which seemed to originate from the imposing front door. Forged out of dark, metallic pieces, the door had no visible handle; instead, a long, tasseled cord hung inertly at its side. 

With a sharp jerk of her arm, Lucy yanked the cord, eliciting a yowl from somewhere inside. After a moment, the door slid upwards, revealing Unikitty waiting behind it.

“Lucy! Emmet!” She exclaimed brightly. “Come on in!” Her expression shifted suddenly, rapidly growing angry. “Make sure you wipe your feet first,” she commanded, before her face relaxed and she stepped back inside. 

“Hey Unikitty,” Lucy paused to wipe her feet on the mat as she walked in.  “Were you able to pick up those angle connectors we needed?”

“Oh yes,” Unikitty replied in a chipper voice. “There was an awfully rude alien that had their eye on them as well, but, uh,” she flexed her paw, revealing the sharp claws within. “It didn't take much to dissuade them.”

Lucy chuckled, and the two started moving out of the entryway. “I really think they’ll really improve the overall performance, but it'll be kind of a hassle to install them.”

Rex, who'd been momentarily distracted by deliberately wiping his feet as little as possible, suddenly saw an opportunity. “I can help,” he blurted out.

They looked back at him. “Oh Emmet,” Lucy said in a soothing voice. “Thank you, but it's ok, really. We've got this.”

“No wait,” Rex insisted. If he fixed their rocket launcher, and if he was being honest he knew he'd drastically improve it as well, then it'd be a great step in demonstrating his new skills. “I'm tough now, remember?”

Unikitty, looking mildly confused, glanced up towards Lucy for an explanation. 

“Oh,” Lucy stammered. “He, uh, Emmet’s started working on being tougher, you see. But, um, Emmet? Maybe next time, ok?”

Rex knew that he shouldn’t push the issue. Acquiescence was a large part of Emmet’s character, especially when it came to Lucy. However, this feeling of impotence really, really did not sit well with him.  

“But, Lucy,” he started, frustration clear in his voice.

“Emmet,” Unikitty interrupted, “I know you just want to be helpful.” She trotted over to his side, placing a paw against his leg. “After all, you’re Emmet! And the Emmet that I know is the sweetest and most helpful-est guy.”

Bile rose in the back of Rex’s throat.  _ You're wrong _ , he wanted to sneer.  _ I'm not sweet. I’m not even Emmet, you stupid cat. I haven't been Emmet for a long time.  _

Unaware of his thoughts, Unikitty looked up at him with soft eyes. “But I think,” she continued in a quiet voice, “it's ok to not help, if it means forcing yourself to be someone you’re not. It’s ok to just be Emmet.”

Rex froze. That was… unexpected.

Unikitty smiled up at him. “We’ll see you in a bit.”

With that, she and Lucy proceeded out of the room, presumably heading back towards the workshop. Still taken aback, Rex didn't move to stop them.

Eventually however, he recovered from his momentary stupor and, with the realization that he'd been unceremoniously dismissed once again, his frustration returned with renewed vigor. 

Irritated, Rex began pacing around the room, deliberately stomping his feet harder than necessary. How could he had ever lived like this, he wondered. How could he had ever considered these people, who simultaneously taunted his weakness and disregarded his attempts at improvement, to be his friends?

He hadn't expected this undercover mission to be quite this infuriating. He'd been expecting people to react like Emmet had, instantly recognizing him as someone tough and mature. Instead, no one had been able to really see him, their perception blocked by their preconceived notions of Emmet. 

Absentmindedly, he pulled the radio out of his pocket, and fiddled with the various dials. A part of him wanted to turn it on, call Emmet up, and tell him  _ “Don’t bother! Everyone will still treat you like a childish loser!” _

One of the girls in the next room dropped something, and it clattered loudly against the ground. Suddenly aware again of their presence, Rex hastily stuffed the radio back into his pocket.

Tired of pacing, he flung himself onto Unikitty’s couch, kicking his dirty feet up onto the coffee table. He wondered what Emmet and the raptors were up to, wondered whether or not their mission was going well. A deep, hollow feeling opened up inside him as he thought about the Rexcelsior. He missed his ship. He missed his crew. 

He missed his  _ home _ .

His sulking was abruptly interrupted as Unikitty skipped back into the room. She started to speak, but fell silent momentarily as she noticed Rex’s morose expression. 

“Emmet?” She asked with a gentle concern. “Are you ok?”

“Uh,” Rex fumbled momentarily to straighten out his posture and wrangle his expression into an appropriate facsimile of benign cheer. “Yes,” he answered. “I'm always ok!”

"Alright then,” she conceded, not sounding entirely convinced. “Anyways, I told Lucy I wanted to take a break and talk to you, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” Rex responded amicably. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I was wondering how your house was coming along. If you needed any more pieces or anything like that.”

Rex paused. He’d forgotten that Emmet had already told Unikitty about that particular project. If she ever dropped by or tried keeping tabs on the place, then Rex would have to work a lot harder to keep up his disguise.

“It, uh,” he let his face fall into an exaggerated frown. “It got destroyed by the aliens.”

Unikitty face softened in sympathy. “Aw, Emmet, I'm sorry to hear that. I know how excited you were about it.”

She hesitated momentarily, her expression uncharacteristically glum. 

“Emmet,” she finally said. “Could I… tell you something?”

Rex put on a sad but understanding smile. “Of course, Unikitty.”

“I’ve never really talked about it with anyone,” Unikitty started as she crawled up onto the couch next to him, “but, sometimes I  _ really _ miss Cloud Cuckoo Land.”

She sniffed. “I know how you guys feel about the aliens. I know that it's hard to see your home destroyed over and over again, but…” She trailed off, lost for a moment in her thoughts.

“I think,” she finally continued, “in some way, Bricksburg is still there. Not just in the wasteland, but also here in Apocalypseburg. All of our buildings, our weapons, and our custom vehicles are built from Bricksburg’s pieces.”

“In a way,” she sniffled, “you all got to rebuild your home. It doesn't  _ look _ the same, but a lot of stuff hasn't changed. People still work at the same jobs, live in the same homes, and shop at the same stores.”

She looked up at Rex, and he could see the shimmer of tears forming in her eyes. “I'm not trying to say that I don't like living here, but... sometimes it hurts to remember that I can never go home.”

Without thinking, Rex reached over to pat her head. She leaned into the touch. Her fur was much softer than he'd remembered.

“I try not to think about it,” she mewled, “because it doesn't make me angry. It just makes me sad, and a sad Unikitty isn't a very helpful Unikitty.”

“Do you...” Rex murmured. “Do you think that, if you could somehow go back, it would still feel like home?”

“What do you mean?”

“Because you're not the same person anymore.” Rex explained. He knew this line was questioning wasn't very Emmet-like, but a part of him was screaming to ask. “Does the you that you are now still have a place there?”

Unikitty didn't answer for a long moment. 

“I don't know,” she finally admitted. “I  _ don't _ think that I ’m the same person anymore, but I'm also not sure that it matters.”

“How can you say that?” Rex implored.

“Because Cloud Cuckoo Land was for  _ everyone _ , no matter who they were. Even if I couldn't take my old place there, that doesn't mean that there’s  _ no _ place for me.”

Rex let that thought sink in. It was truly a shame that Cloud Cuckoo Land had never been restored. Although, if it had, Rex might never have existed. In the end, he wasn't sure how comforting he found that thought.

“Emmet,” Unikitty broke the comfortable silence, and stretched herself out before meeting Rex’s gaze. “You're a really good friend. Thanks for listening to me.”

A good friend? Rex hadn't been trying to be friendly… All he’d done was say what had been on his mind, which is what he usually did.

Listening to others wasn't tough… No one in Apocalypseburg was ever emotionally vulnerable enough for that kind of thing. Rex panicked slightly. Was the Emmet act rubbing off on him? 

_ No _ , he thought,  _ No way.  _

Unikitty was just be saying that to be “polite”. She’d already called him “sweet” and “helpful” earlier, when he’d been neither of those things. So, it made sense that she’d offer him another benign compliment now. 

Relieved, Rex fixed his face into an appropriately Emmet-esque smile. “Of course, Unikitty. You know I'm always happy to help!”

Unikitty beamed and started to say something else when Lucy walked back into the room. 

“Unikitty?” She called from the doorway. “Benny just texted me. He says we've got a situation that could really use some Ultrakatty-style help.”

“On it, boss.” Unikitty leapt to the ground gracefully, her smile transforming into a more austere expression midway. “Emmet,” she turned back to address him. “You're welcome to stay here while we're gone.”

“Ah thanks, Unikitty, but uh,” Rex joculary gestured towards the door, “I've already got plans.”

“Okey-dokey then!” Unikitty stepped out of the room, but Lucy hung back for a moment.

“Hey, Emmet?” She asked in a soft voice. “Are we still on for tomorrow morning?”

“Ah, of course, Lucy! I wouldn’t dare skip out on my special best friend again.” Rex gritted his teeth at the thought of spending time alone with Lucy again.

“Awesome.” Her lips curled into a slight smile. She looked at him for a moment longer, as if she was deciding whether or not to say something more, then silently turned away and followed after Unikitty.

Once he heard the door slam shut behind her, Rex’s face fell into a deep scowl, his thoughts immediately returning to his earlier ruminatinations. The reception in this crudhole of a town was not like he'd expected. They'd all told him that they wanted him to be tougher, and now that he was? They laughed at him. They derided him. They called him  _ sweet  _ even.

His frustration gnawed at him. If his so-called friends couldn't even recognize how tough Rex was, disguise or no disguise, then the real Emmet didn't stand a chance.

He’d failed.

Rex shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. This was just… a minor setback. And a minor setback could be compensated for. He'd just have to up the toughness a little. Then they'd have no choice but to believe him.

First however, Rex had some business to attend to. 

_ ******************* _

The house was exactly where he'd remembered. The clean yellow walls stood out slightly from the desert sand, making it even easier for him to locate. A pile of disassembled monkey bars and toaster parts sat off to the side, clearly indicating that Emmet hadn't had the chance to finish the place yet. 

And now, he never would.

Rex stepped onto the porch, casting a disdainful glance towards the double decker swing. He'd deliberately avoided implementing  _ any  _ double decker furniture on the Rexcelsior. Now that he was tough and mature, he could see how utterly  _ stupid _ the idea really was. 

His expression darkened at the thought, and he reached up, wrenching the porch swing down from its hanger. It clattered to the floor, and, as Rex proceeded to stomp on it, the metal frame distorted and screeched under his foot.

Just as he was about to turn his attention elsewhere, something in the mess caught his eye. Moving aside a few broken pieces, he pulled out a small white throw pillow. The embroidery on the front, which spelt out “E & L 4-Eva”, had a tear through it now, and some of the fluff had begun spilling out.  

Rex ran his thumb over the letters. He’d… forgotten about this. He hadn’t thought about it in years, but now, with the pillow in his hands, he could easily recall the nights he'd spent working on it, the hours he'd spent stitching each letter. He could remember how deeply he hoped that Lucy would like it.  

He dropped the pillow like it had burned him. Anger flashed across his face and he stomped on it. When it simply gave underfoot, he snatched it back up, ripping it in half and scattering stuffing everywhere.

He was not Emmet anymore. Emmet’s things and Emmet’s memories meant nothing to him anymore. He had learned the truth of the universe and hardened his heart accordingly. 

And now, he had the opportunity to prove it to himself.

As the day had progressed, he’d felt an itch building up underneath his skin. It was a itch that could only be scratched by destroying something. It was the need to smash things, to throw them and shatter them, to reduce them to pieces.

Giving into this need, giving into his anger always felt  _ good _ . It filled his chest with warmth, making him feel powerful and complete. Compared to the hollowness he felt more frequently than he would ever admit, it was a welcome change.

With an animalistic roar, Rex smacked his fist into the side of the house. The wall splintered at his touch. He hit it again, and it crumbled further. Over and over, he slammed his knuckles into the quaint abode until it had been reduced to unrecognizable rubble.

Taking a deep shuddery breath, Rex stopped to take in the sight. Slowly, the fire in his chest waned to a low smolder. He felt tired, but good. It was like feeling sore after a workout or long run. Running a hand through his hair, the sweat caused the hair clump together, falling across his forehead in familiar swoops.

It was late now. The sun had finally started sinking below the horizon, and the air was growing chilly. It felt nice, compared to the stifling heat of the day. Rex started walking away from the ruined house, back towards Apocalypseburg. He'd been planning to stay in the house overnight, like Emmet had in the original timeline, but clearly that was no longer an option.

As he walked, he thought about where he could feasibly go. None of Emmet’s friends would turn him away, but the thought of spending more time with any of them, especially Lucy, made his stomach curdle. 

As he reached the edge of town, he found himself at the base of the Statue of Un-Liberty. As always, she stared into the distance with impassive eyes, silently watching the night fall. 

Climbing the statue was easier than he’d expected, as if the path was still embedded somewhere in his muscle memory. When he reached the torch platform, he looked out at the empty streets below him and the star-filled sky above. Somewhere up there the Rexcelsior continued its mission without him. Somewhere further still was the Stairgate, and the accursed Systar System. Rex laid on his back, still watching the heavens. He let his mind wander now, wondering about Emmet and his plan in general, until eventually, he drifted to sleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

Emmet had always been an early bird, leaping out of his bed in the morning chipper and ready to face the day. And then, when he’d fall back into bed after a long day of hard work, he never really struggled to fall asleep. 

That wasn’t to say that sleep never eluded him, of course. There had been more than a few nights after the aliens started invading that found him staring into the star-studded sky through the myriad new holes busted out of his ceiling. Worse yet were the mornings when he’d been woken up by the sounds of screaming people and collapsing buildings drowning out the buzz of his alarm clock. Eventually, after Apocalypseburg had been founded and the invasions started to taper off, Emmet’s easy slumber had returned to its normal schedule once again.

Tonight however, he found himself tossing and turning. 

There were a number of physical factors keeping him awake. His shoulders, sore from doing pushups for two hours, ached whenever he laid on his side. His left knee, which had just started scabbing over the massive scrape he’d given himself at the skate park, complained as he tried rolling onto his stomach. And, each time he positioned himself on his back, the tag of his new Rex-brand pajamas itched uncomfortably in that unscratchable spot between his shoulder blades. 

On top of all that, the ship was obnoxiously noisy. Underneath his bed, Emmet could nearly feel the constant electrical drone of the humming engines. None of the raptors sleeping around him seemed to notice the noise, as they had all drifted off hours ago, filling the barracks with the cumulative susurration of their gentle breathing. Emmet, having lived alone for most of his life, wasn't really used to sharing a room with anyone, much less with a hundred snoring velociraptors. 

Beyond the noise however, Emmet was struggling because he missed his friends dearly. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but imagine the busy streets of Apocalypseburg. What were his friends up to? Did they miss him? Were they excited for him? Was Lucy upset that Emmet had skipped out on her?

The questions reeled in his mind, going round and round in circles, keeping him awake all the while. He wished that he could talk to his friends… especially Lucy. He missed her most of all.

Monday morning hangouts with Lucy were his favorite thing. It was  perfect, just the two of them, alone, sharing their thoughts with each other. He loved those moments because Lucy was so open with him, like she trusted him more than anybody else. And then, whenever Emmet spoke, she'd  _ listen _ .

It meant a lot to him. 

Lately, people had been sort of... tuning Emmet out. They looked at him with disinterested eyes, sometimes seeming to look through him entirely. He'd been nearly run over more than a few times, and, when he’d greet people on the street, they didn't often say anything in return.

At first, these kinds of incidents had been easy to dismiss. People weren't  _ always _ attentive after all, sometimes they were distracted, or having a particularly bad day, or simply hadn't heard Emmet over over the roar of the street.

But eventually, it became a pattern - a familiar and unsettling pattern that made his gut clench whenever he thought about it. 

Before everything, before the aliens and Taco Tuesday and the prophecy, when he'd just been Emmet the construction worker, people had acted this way too.

Whenever he'd tried to talk to someone, be it Gail or Harry or Frank, they'd either brush him off or straight up ignore him. Folks would ask for pieces or tools, but they never seemed to ask  _ him _ specifically.

It wasn't until he saw the video in Bad Cop’s office that he’d realized what was going on.

No one liked him. 

No one even  _ saw _ him.

The people that he’d considered his friends for years and years had never been his friends at all. Sitting there, with the cold steel handcuffs resting heavily on his wrists, the realization gutted him.

Afterwards, as the Special, as a hero, as a member of a team, he felt that wound close a little. He felt less alone than he had in a long time.

But recently, those lonely feelings were starting to coming back. Emmet tried to avoid them, tried to bury his emotions under preppy happy music, but he could never completely ignore the sting he felt every time someone scoffed at him dismissively or pretended not to have heard him. 

But with Lucy, everything was different. Sure, she thought he was kind of a wuss, but that wasn't anything new. And regardless of his naivety, she always made time for him, setting aside multiple hours each week for the two of them to talk and hangout together. Just thinking about it, just thinking about  _ her _ sent butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

He was so excited to show her the house he'd been building for the two of them. And once he got back, tough and cool and improved, he knew he'd do such a great job finishing the place up and safeguarding it from the aliens that she'd totally love  ~~ him ~~ it. Imagining her face, lit up in surprise and wonder, Emmet couldn't help but smile to himself under the covers. 

As he thought about Lucy, and his other worries faded just enough for the soft embrace of sleep to finally claim him, Emmet wondered vaguely if she, or anyone else, would think to water Planty for him.

_ ******************* _

An alarm blared throughout the ship’s corridors. At the harsh sound, Emmet jolted upright, blinking blearily at the blurry shapes of raptors hustling to get out of bed. 

“ _ TIME TO GO! _ ” One of them screeched as it ran by, prompting Emmet to crawl out from under his blanket and start making his way through the crowd, tripping over his own feet as he struggled to pull on his new spacesuit.

He and a number of raptors struggled to squeeze themselves together into one of the veloci-lifts, as the alarm outside continued to shriek. The sound softened somewhat as the doors clicked shut, and then faded into the distance as the cab rapidly shot up through the ship. 

With a ding, the lift stopped as quickly as it had started, opening its doors and spilling raptors out onto the bridge. Emmet tumbled out with them and laid on the floor, trying to collect his bearings. After a moment, he felt a claw hook around a strap on the back of his suit, lifting him into the air and gently setting him on his feet. Looking up, he saw a large raptor wielding a headset and clipboard. 

“ _GOOD MORNING_ ,” she screeched. “ _I’M BULLET._ _FOLLOW ME._ ”

Emmet nodded mutely, and she took off. Trotting after her, Emmet and the raptor made their way down the hall to a large metal door with an inset plaque reading “Briefing Room”. Stepping inside, they found themselves in a dimly lit room. The long conference table and the surrounding roller chairs shone with an eerie blue color, illuminated by the cyan glow of a projector’s default screen. With a flick of her claw, Bullet gestured towards a manila folder laying on the table in front of them. 

Stepping forward, Emmet took a seat and opened the folder to reveal a stack of papers. He flipped through them, hoping for some form of clarification, but each page seemed to contain either grainy radar imagery or long strings of incomprehensible numbers. 

“Um,” Emmet turned to look back up at his escort. “What exactly is this?”

“ _ YOUR FIRST MISSION, _ ” she replied, laying down another sheet of paper. 

_ “Emmet,” _ the paper read.  _ “Our advanced scouting patrol has detected an unauthorized enemy base somewhere within the Glastroid Field. You’ll need to take the Rexplorer pod into the Stairgate, navigate through the treacherous field, and locate this base.” _

A crude map illustrated the necessary route. At the end, the enemy base was marked with a glittery, star-shaped sticker.  

_ “Further instructions will be given once you succeed.”  _

At the bottom of the page was a brief message written in Rex’s scrawling penmanship instead of printed text _. _

_ “You can do it, buddy.” _

He smiled at the note. Rex was a super smart, super cool spaceship captain. If he believed in Emmet, then Emmet would have to be a fool not to as well. With a hum of contemplation, he tried shifting his posture into a more appropriate approximation of how he imagined a serious guy like Rex might sit. 

“So,” Emmet leaned back in his chair. “What can you tell me about this enemy base?” 

“ _ IT BELONGS TO AGENTS OF THE SYSTAR SYSTEM _ .” Bullet set her clipboard down, and tapped a claw against the sticker on Emmet’s map, leaving a noticeable dent in its golden surface.

“Uh,” Emmet’s confident smile weakened. “Obviously I know what that means, but why don’t you explain just so that we're both on the same page…”

“ _ IT BELONGS _ ,” the raptor screeched exasperatedly, “ _ TO THE ALIENS THAT ATTACKED YOUR HOME. _ ”

“Oh.” He could feel his heart start beating faster. Emmet had seen the aliens countless times, even fighting them a few times with the others. But, ever since they’d built Apocalypseburg, his friends had become reticent to let him engage, saying that it was just too dangerous, that Emmet wasn’t tough enough, that he’d get hurt or worse.

And now, he was going to have to seek the aliens out, on their own turf, without any of his friends… 

“Super quick question,” he blurted out, his words tripping over each other in their hurry. “But, uh, this isn’t like, a  _ solo _ mission, right? Like, you guys are coming with me?”

“ _ AFFIRMATIVE _ .” Bullet snatched back her clipboard and turned to exit the room. “ _ LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO THE TEAM. _ ”

She led Emmet down to the hangar bay. The ship that he’d seen being repaired earlier sat finished in the center of the room, neighbored by a small cluster of raptors trying to quietly converse amongst themselves. 

“ _ OKAY TEAM, _ ” Emmet’s escort screeched, causing the other group to leap to attention. “ _ INITIATE CLICHE INTRODUCTION PROTOCOLS _ .” 

The raptors looked at each other momentarily before one of them stepped forwards, extending a claw towards Emmet. 

“ _ CAPTAIN _ ,” she screeched as Emmet took her claw in a firm handshake.  “ _ I AM… TIBERIUS, YOUR CO-PILOT AND FIRST… IN COMMAND. _ ” She looked off dramatically into the distance before continuing. “ _ I AM AN EXPLORER AT HEART AND WILL ALWAYS… HAVE… YOUR BACK. _ ”

“It’s nice to meet you!” Emmet grinned and turned to face the next raptor that was approaching. 

“ _ THEY CALL ME HAWKEYE _ ,” she said, shifting her satchel to better display the red cross symbol emblazoned on the front. “ _ I’M HERE TO ENSURE THAT WE ALL MAKE IT HOME AND TO MAKE VARIOUS ENDEARING QUIPS IN THE MEANTIME _ .”

“Sounds good!” Emmet chuckled. He turned again. “And you are?”

“ _ TRINITY, _ ” a darker colored raptor stepped up to identify herself. “ _ I DO COMPUTERS, NUMBERS, AND SMARMY COMMENTS THAT IMPLY HOW I AM MUCH, MUCH SMARTER THAN YOU _ .” 

The fourth raptor advanced with a salute. She was equipped with some kind of harness that strapped over her back and held a number of laser guns and other weapons. One of her eyes was covered by an eyepatch, but the other held a steely determination that sent a shiver down Emmet’s spine as she hissed. “ _ I AM SNAKE. _ ” 

Emmet waited for a moment. “Do… Do you have a personality trait you’d like to share?” 

“ _ HONESTLY, I THOUGHT THE GUNS WERE PRETTY SELF-EXPLANATORY. _ ”

“Fair enough,” Emmet shrugged. “And the other one?” He gesturing towards the last remaining raptor.

“ _ YES, _ ” Bullet replied.

“Yes, what?” 

Bullet cocked her head curiously. “ _ YES, THAT’S HER. THE ENGINEER _ .”

“But… that doesn’t… I don’t...” Any semblance of comprehension fled from Emmet’s expression. He stared at Bullet blankly until it became overwhelmingly obvious that no further explanation was going to come.

“Ok,” he threw his hands up helplessly. “Nevermind! I’ll just ask her later, I guess…”

“ _ YOU DO YOU _ ,” Bullet screeched. She dropped the keys for the ship into Emmet’s palm and stalked off. Alone now, the crew turned to face him.

“Oh, uh, um…” He stammered momentarily before clearing his throat and regaining a suitably captain-esque voice. “Ok, crew,” he clicked the dongle, as he spoke, causing the Rexplorer to beep and lower the gangplank. “Everyone on board!”

The raptors turned obediently and filed onto the ship, with Emmet following quick on their heels. As he entered the ship, and the hatch latched shut behind him, sealing the exit, Emmet couldn’t help but feel a little trapped. 

_ It’s ok _ , he tried to tell himself.  _ You can do this. Everyone believes in you. _ Unbidden, memories of his Apocalypseburg friends swam into his mind. 

_Ok,_ he revised his thought, _almost_ _everyone believes in you._

“ _ BOSS? _ ” One of the raptors screeched from where she stood at her station, shaking Emmet from his ruminations. Quickly, he realized that he was the only one not ready for takeoff.

“Uh, where... I mean...” He fell silent, looking around the bridge. The only chair left was the large central one - the captain’s chair. “This one’s mine, right?” He asked as he slid uneasily into the oversized seat.

“ _ YOU ARE IN CHARGE, RIGHT? _ ” Snake asked flippantly.

“Yes!” Emmet squeaked indignantly. “I mean,” he deepened his voice, “yes. Yes, I am. And, as your captain, I will now take us to the Stairgate!” 

He sat up straighter, suffusing his pose with a confidence he didn’t really feel. “How hard can it be,” he muttered to himself.

At his touch, the controls lit up in various blinking colors. The ship itself roared to life, the dual engines thrumming behind him. In front of the wide glass windshield, the hangar doors slowly started to open. With a gentle hand, Emmet maneuvered the pod out of the hangar bay, and into the void of space. Just when he started to feel like he had a handle on the controls, Trinity spoke up from behind him. 

“ _ THE STAIRGATE SENSORS ARE DETECTING AN INCREASE IN STAIR ACTIVITY, SIR _ .” Trinity gestured towards an illuminated display that had begun blinking rapidly.

“R-right… Let’s do this, then.” Swallowing his fear, Emmet leaned down on the yoke of the ship, eliciting a thrum from the engines and propelling the craft towards a strange heavenly body, which, as it neared, began to almost resemble a large white door.

The light of the door grew in intensity as they approached, becoming almost painful to look at. And then, like the flick of a light switch, the Rexplorer was plunged into darkness, hurtling through the universe, their ship warping and twisting around them. 

“ _ MY GOD _ ,” The Other One screamed, “ _ IT’S FULL OF STAIRS. _ ”

At the sound of her voice, Emmet glanced over, following her pointing claw towards the window. Outside, millions of stair-shaped objects, nebulas, and galaxies were streaking past, smearing together like paint and coalescing into a single radiant point of dazzling light. Again, the harshness of the light increased painfully, overwhelming the fragile ship until it burst clear of the gate with an audible “pop”. 

As the light faded, Emmet blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of the patchy black spots left on his retinas. One particularly persistent spot didn't disappear, causing him to wonder momentarily before the spot resolved into the silhouette of a giant glastroid heading directly for them.

With a yelp, he jerked on the control, sending the Rexplorer in a veering arc around the deadly obstacle.  

“Can you see the base?” Emmet yelled over his shoulder. The sooner they could land, the better. At the sight of hundreds of glastroids careening through space, his confidence had begun to quickly dissipate. 

“ _ NOT YET, BOSS! _ ” Trinity typed furiously at her station, the display above her transitioning from image to image in rapid succession as she scoured the field around them.

Another glastroid tumbled towards them, seemingly in slow-motion. Again, Emmet yanked on  the yoke, twisting the ship just enough to avoid a direct collision. With a sickening crunch, the Rexplorer jostled and shook as it scraped against the glassy surface. 

“ _ THE PRIMARY SENSOR ARRAY HAS BEEN HIT! _ ” Trinity screeched, as a shower of sparks leapt from her monitor.

“Can you use a secondary array?” Emmet turned to address her, trying futilely to keep his voice confident and even. 

“ _ YES, _ ” she turned back to her monitor and gasped. “ _ I’M DETECTING AN IMMINENT COLLISION! _ ”

Emmet squealed and twisted back to face the windshield. Yet another glastroid had appeared in front of them, and, in his adrenaline-induced rush to swerve around, he misjudged the margin of error. There was a deafening, grinding sound from the ship’s hull, and the bridge shook so violently that Emmet tumbled from his chair onto the floor.  

“ _ SIR _ ,” Trinity screamed. “ _ I HAVE GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS. _ ”

“What’s the good news?” Emmet asked timidly.

“ _ I AM NO LONGER DETECTING ANY POSSIBLE COLLISIONS. _ ”

“Oh, that actually is pretty good news.” Hauling himself back to his feet, Emmet crawled back into the captain’s chair. “And what’s the bad news?”

“ _ I AM NO LONGER DETECTING ANYTHING. OUR SECONDARY ARRAY HAS ALSO BEEN HIT. _ ”

“What!?” Emmet wailed. “Why wouldn’t you just say that?” He turned his attention to The Other One. “You’re the engineer, right? I need you to repair the sensors right now!”

“ _ ON IT, CAPTAIN _ .” The Other One started up the ladder towards the maintenance hatch when another shockwave rocked the vessel. The raptors all swayed violently, and the monitors spat out fat electric sparks. 

“ _ ARGH! _ ” Trinity cried out. “ _ WHY DID WE DESIGN THEM TO DO THAT? _ ”

The Other One yelped in pain as well, as the motion had dislodged her from the ladder she’d been climbing. She hit the ground hard. 

“Tiberius, take over!” Emmet ordered. 

Screeching in assent, she moved to take his seat as Emmet ran over to check on his fallen crewmember. As he knelt beside her, Hawkeye appeared at his side. With a trained eye, she examined the injured raptor. The Other One whimpered slightly as the medic applied a bandage to the new lump above her eye. Hearing the sound, Emmet reached out to hold her claw in his hands.

_ This is all my fault _ , he thought.  _ I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I’m going to get us all killed out here. _

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked in a small, scared whisper. 

“ _ YES _ ,” Hawkeye nodded. “ _ BUT NOT FOR A WHILE. I’LL NEED TO TAKE HER BACK TO THE SICK BAY _ .”

“Could… Could you fix the sensors first?” Emmet asked, desperation clear in his voice as the ship narrowly avoided another fatal collision.   

“ _ CAPTAIN, _ ” she scowled, “ _ I’M A DOCTOR, NOT AN ENGINEER. _ ”

“Right, right, sorry.” Emmet looked around the bridge. Hawkeye and Snake were helping The Other One out of the room. Trinity was working with renewed vigor to pry any useable data from her malfunctioning station. In the center of the room, Tiberius was struggling against the yoke, fighting to keep them all safe. They were all working so hard, and they were all counting on  _ him. _

“I have to do it,” he muttered to himself. 

In a fluid motion, Emmet stuffed his helmet on firmly. The suit hissed around him as the internal pressure adjusted, drawing the stiff fabric close to his skin. With a grunt of determination, he clambered up the maintenance ladder, pushing pass the heavy hatch to crawl out onto the hull of the ship. 

Ignoring the glastroids tumbling around him, even the concerningly close ones, Emmet inched towards the sensor arrays. Between the mess of blinking lights and the torn wires whipping around like a nest of angry snakes, he worried momentarily that he wouldn’t know how to fix them. But, as he crawled closer, he realized that they were...  _ familiar _ . The circuitry reminded him of the kind that he’d implemented a million times in various Octan skyscrapers. 

With a sigh of relief, Emmet set to work. The suit’s gloves made his hands clumsy, but he managed to wrangle the arrays into order before making his way back inside.

Yanking his helmet off, he took a deep breath and wiped the beads of sweat from his sticky forehead. “Please,” he pleaded, “please tell me I actually fixed that.” 

“ _ YOU DID IT, CAPTAIN. _ ” Trinity clicked at her screen for a moment. “ _ AND WHAT’S MORE, I’VE LOCATED THE BASE! _ ”

A red outline suddenly winked into existence around one of the glastroids outside the windshield.

“ _ CAPTAIN… _ ” Tiberius passed the controls back to Emmet. “ _ TAKE US… IN _ .” 

Running on the final dregs of his adrenaline, Emmet steered towards the indicated glastroid, slowly approaching and even slowly-er landing on the smooth, glassy surface.

The inside of the ship fell silent as the engines died.

“I… I did it.” Emmet muttered in utter amazement. “We actually  _ did _ it.”

“ _ YES, THAT WAS EXCELLENT WORK, EVERYBODY. _ ” Snake walked back onto the bridge, the guns strapped to her back buzzing angrily. 

“ _ NOW IT’S TIME FOR PHASE TWO. _ ”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAH! Sorry it took me so long to update, but this last month of school kicked my butt SO HARD. It, uh, also didn't help that this is the longest chapter so far :p
> 
> IDK if this makes up for the delay at all, but Rex does get his hug in this chapter! It's a lovely moment where absolutely nothing goes wrong... 
> 
> Anyways, next chapter will switch back to Emmet's POV and will incorporate some original characters and places. As such, I've been working on some illustrations to accompany the chapter! I'll likely post them on tumblr and then include a link in the notes.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

The first rays of sunlight trickled over the horizon, streaking the sky with the same orange glow as the desert sands below. Disturbed by the light, Rex sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Commotion had already begun in the street below, and he could see more than a few early birds up and about their morning errands. 

With a deep yawn, Rex stretched, arching his arms above himself and working out the stiffness left in his spine from having slept on the hard floor. As he did, he felt the tell-tale buzz of Emmet’s cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Curious, he pulled the device out, inspecting the bright screen. 

_ hey emmet _ , a new text notification read.  _ b@man moved the meeting to his place _

_ again _

_ we can still head over together tho _

_ meet u @ larry’s? _

Rex grimaced as he thumbed through the messages. If he was the sort of guy that felt regrets, he would definitely regret having told Lucy yesterday that we would meet up with her this morning. But,  _ obviously _ , he had no such regrets. If any cowardly portion of his mind was shying away from the idea of seeing her and the others again, of being treated like some goody-two-shoes again, then Rex would just have to ignore that part until it shut up and went away. 

Unfortunately, it was starting to look like that part of himself wasn’t planning on shutting up anytime soon. 

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Rex rested his chin on top of them and tried to reason with himself. Meeting with Lucy was a strategic decision; it was as important to his disguise as the construction worker outfit and the yellow paint on his face. If he truly wanted to keep up his facade, that meant continuing to be Lucy’s Special Best Friend. 

_ Of course, _ Rex thought, scowling to himself.  _ I might not have to pretend forever. _

Once Emmet was done with his training, once he  _ was  _ Rex as well, the odds were high that he’d see Lucy and the others the same way Rex currently did. Therefore, if Rex were to break things off with Lucy, it would likely benefit himself in the long run.

_ BEEP BEEP BEEP _

A tinny, beeping noise emanated from Rex’s pocket, shaking him out of his thoughts. He reached for his cell phone again, only to realize that the device was still resting inertly in his palm. Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he pulled out the sleek black radio that he had taken from the Rexcelsior. The device continued to beep and blink at him, indicating an incoming call. 

“Emmet?” Rex asked hesitantly, as he pressed the button on the side of the device.

“Rex!” Emmet’s voice came through the speaker clearly. “You’re there! How are you?”

“Uh,” Rex paused, casting a look down towards the people meandering in the streets below. “I’m  _ super awesome _ , little buddy. How are you holding up?”

“I’m awesome too! I’ve been doing a lot of push ups, though. Snake says they’re the toughest form of exercise.”

“Yeah,” Rex chuckled. “That sounds like her. Have you all started your mission then?”

“Yep!” Emmet squealed loudly enough to elicit a sharp shriek of feedback from the radio. “The mission is going really well! I was all like, _ ‘Oh my gosh, why did I think I could do this? We’re all going to die out here!’ _ . But then, we totally didn’t!”

Rex smiled, listening to Emmet regale him with the entire story of his adventure - sound effects included. He tried to pay attention, but couldn’t help but get distracted by the small part of himself was was quietly thrilled at how far Emmet had already come. 

He had been hesitant to send Emmet through the glastroid field so early in the training process, especially considering Rex’s personal history with the area, but he had faith in Emmet and his raptors.

Clearly, his faith had paid off. 

Clearly, the plan was  _ working _ .

Rex had let himself get distracted. His goal wasn’t to have a good time in Apocalypseburg. It was to keep an eye on Lucy and make sure that neither she nor anyone else interfered with Emmet’s training. He had let his emotions run wild and, if he continued to do so, then he would never be able to complete his half of the plan. He would fail to protect the one person he cared about. 

Emmet was still chattering in his ear, but Rex had long stopped listening. He just had to stay focused on playing his part. If he didn’t - if Lucy and the others undid all of Emmet’s training as soon as he got back, like had happened before when Lucy found them in Undar - then Rex would have to start all over,  _ again _ .

Yesterday had proven that this was going to be an uphill battle, but Rex had been in situations far, far more hopeless before. He was prepared to tough it out. 

“Rex?” Emmet’s inquisitive tone grabbed Rex’s attention.

“Uh,” Rex’s brow furrowed as he tried in vain to recall what Emmet had just been saying. “What is it, buddy?”

“I have to go now. We’re having a mission briefing, and they need their captain.” Emmet couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of that title applying to him. 

“Alright kid, keep up the good work.” Rex held the radio in his hand, listening to it spit static for a moment before falling silent as he finally released the side-button. Slipping the device back into his pocket, he pushed himself to his feet and started pacing. 

He had to do something to show everyone that he meant business, but what?

His hair was still messy from last night, which was a good start. With a practiced motion, Rex brushed the disheveled mess into his signature hair style. 

Next, he clutched at the fabric of his shirt sleeve. Ripping them off would look pretty tough, as they were currently hiding his sick muscles from an unsuspecting world, but would such a drastic change strike the others as particularly un-Emmet-like? Uncertain, Rex settled for sloppily rolling the sleeves halfway up his arms. 

Satisfied, he took off down the statue, heading into the city. It had been years since he had walked to Larry’s coffee shop, and yet his feet carried him there as easily as if he’d gone only yesterday. 

As he entered, Larry turned and met him with an achingly familiar derisive scowl. As Rex scanned the crowd, the other patrons all shot equally scornful stares in his direction. Unperturbed by their reactions, Rex found himself with a more pressing concern. 

Lucy wasn’t here. 

With a frown, he pulled out his phone to double-check the messages she had sent. As the screen blinked to life, Rex suddenly realized his mistake.

He was late.

He was really,  _ really _ late.

He had been so distracted during Emmet’s call earlier, he had completely lost track of time. Lucy must have left already. The meeting with their Master Builder friends had likely already started as well. 

Rex hissed a word under his breath - one which cannot in good conscious be included in a PG story - and bolted back out the door. 

_ ******************* _

Approximately ten minutes later, Rex hauled himself up the stairs in front of the former Wayne Manor and, with a grunt of exertion, rapped on the front door with the intricate and incredibly heavy, bat-shaped knocker. A moment past before Batman’s butler swung the door open.

“Master Emmet,” he said with a slight bow. “Please follow me to the drawing room.”

With a nod, Rex stepped through the doorway and proceeded to follow Alfred through the maze-like halls of the cavernous mansion. As they approached a particularly tall, stately looking door, the sounds of muffled voices grew louder and louder. 

“Through here sir,” Alfred gestured towards the door before turning neatly on his heel and walking off in the direction they had come from.

Rex watched him leave. Once the butler was out of sight, he turned back to the door, pressing an ear against the cold wood and listening intently to the conversation on the other side. 

“I don’t understand why you all voted against the giant steel dome.” Batman’s characteristic deep growl was difficult to make out. “It’s clearly the best and coolest option.” 

“Batman,” Lucy responded, her voice strained with exasperation. “I am  _ not  _ going to explain again why blocking out the sun is a bad idea.”

“Sunlight is overrated.” 

_ They’re arguing over how to prevent another alien attack _ , Rex thought, chuckling to himself. No one in that room had any idea how very relevant those concerns would become before the week was out. 

“Maybe we should go over the blockade idea again.” Benny interjected. 

“Yar, I be agreeing most with that sentiment.” Metalbeard’s loud voice was unmistakable. “Blockading yon Stairgate is quite clearly a better idea than anything this be-caped fool has suggested.” 

Rex grimaced. Space was awful big, but if they started poking around the Stairgate then Emmet and the Rexcelsior could be in trouble. He needed to convince them to drop the idea, but as things currently stood, they would likely ignore whatever suggestions he made. However, if he could just show them how tough he was, then they’d have to take his advice. Determined, he pushed the door open.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Rex stepped into the room, watching as everyone’s heads swiveled at the the sound of his voice. 

“Emmet!” Lucy exclaimed. “I, uh, I thought maybe you just weren’t coming today.” 

“Nah,” Rex waved a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t miss something as important as this.” With a grin and a cocky laugh, he pulled out a chair and flopped into the seat. “After all,” he continued smugly. “You guys clearly need my help.”

The other figures around the table exchanged confused glances. 

“Right,” Batman huffed. “We heard you’re tough now, or whatever.” He was seated at the end of the long table, opposite from Rex and directly underneath a large oil painting of himself, whose expression of disbelief perfectly matched his own. At the sound of his voice, Rex bristled involuntarily.

“Well,” Rex forced himself to continue smiling cheerfully. “I’m certainly getting there!”

“Emmet,” Lucy, seated to his left, interrupted. “Are you wearing your hair differently?”

“Oh,” Rex reached up towards his hair absentmindedly. “Yeah, I thought it looked tougher this way.”

“That it does, matey.” Metalbeard piped up. Benny, sitting beside him, nodded in agreement.

“I like it,” Lucy added. “It kind of suits you.”

Rex’s grin softened into something genuine.

“Uhhh…” Batman tilted back in his chair until he was almost parallel with the floor. “Newsflash, but changing your hair doesn’t automatically make you tough, bro.” 

“Yeah,” Lucy laughed nervously. “Of- of course it doesn’t… Um, for a totally unrelated reason, I have to leave right now.” Hastily, she stood up, pushing herself away from the table and exiting the room in the direction of the bathroom. 

Rex watched her leave, his expression growing taut. “That’s not the only thing that’s changed, you know.”. 

“No, yeah, totally,” Batman responded facetiously. “I did notice the whole… sleeve thing you’ve got going on, and that’s just  _ super  _ tough.” He paused briefly. “Also, you can’t tell, but I’m totally rolling my eyes right now.”

Rex felt his fists clench at his sides. Deliberately, he forced himself to take deep breaths.

“Maybe someday,” Batman continued, “you might even be tough enough to patrol the wasteland all on your own. Of course, maybe not, considering that I’m the only one currently tough enough to do that.”

Rex laughed, a burst of manic energy erupting from him. “Well, maybe someday!”

“Well,” Batman scowled, “maybe not.”

“But maybe!”

“But maybe  _ not _ .”

“I am very uncomfortable with the atmosphere we’ve created in this room.” Benny said, mostly to himself, as no one happened to be listening to him. 

Beside him, Metalbeard scoffed. With a cacophony of metallic squeaks and squeals, he maneuvered his prosthetic body such that it leaned over the table conspiratorially. 

“I dunno why the two of ye be bothering to argue about toughness,” he mused, “when neither of ye be tough enough to seek out Lord Business’s lost treasure vault.”

Rex gaped at him. “Lost treasure vault?”

“Of course!” Metalbeard clambered onto the table, posing dramatically in the center. “When me crew and I first infiltrated that landlubber’s treacherous office tower, we stumbled across a vast chamber housing his most powerful relics - mysterious and terrible things, the lot ‘em.”

“His relic room?” Rex frowned. “But, we've been there before.”

“We found but one room of many,” Metalbeard insisted. “The powerful relics, the  _ dangerous _ relics, be kept much, much deeper in yon tower.”

“Rumor has it,” he continued, “that some poor fool tried to find this vault, claiming that the relics belonged in a museum, only to instead find himself flattened by none other than the dreaded Orb of Tee-ti-lus!”

Benny gasped. “That’s horrible!”

“Aye,” Metalbeard assented. “That’s why I'll be sure to avoid his careless mistakes once I get me body working again and can seek out this treasure on me own.”

Batman said something about that, but Rex didn't hear it over the sound of gears turning inside his head. If he could find Lord Business’s vault, break in, and steal a relic, then these idiots would have no choice but acknowledge how tough he truly was.

“I can do it,” he said to no one is particular, before pushing out his chair and briskly walking out of the room.

“Uh,” Metalbeard watched him leave, his mouth agape.

“Well, that's… not good.” Batman stared at the closing door.

“Let's get Lucy?” Benny asked.

Batman nodded. “Let's get Lucy.”

_ ******************* _

“I can't  _ believe  _ you guys would just let him run off like that!” Lucy, sat in the passenger seat of another of Batman's cars, twisted herself to glare backwards towards the other passengers, who for the most part, had the decently to look properly chastised. As they sped across across the rough terrain, the vehicle jostled violently underneath them, forcing Lucy to hold tight to her armrests in order to maintain her position and fierce scowl. 

“Has he not undergone a be-toughening, though?” Metalbeard asked from where he'd been crammed into the backseat. “Is he not tougher now?”

“He's a  _ little _ tougher, but…” Her scowl softened, revealing a fraction of the worry she really felt. “Come on guys, this is still Emmet we're talking about. Do you really think one day is going to make much of a difference if five years didn't?”

“I hope he's okay.” Benny mumbled, squashed somewhere underneath Metalbeard. 

“You guys worry too much,” Batman interjected. “We're all, like, superheros. Obvis, we'll save him.”

He reached over towards the dashboard, cranking up the music in order to drown out the others’ voices. If any of them noticed how his own grip on the steering wheel was deathly tight or how concern was etched into the brow of his cowl, they didn't mention it.

Outside of the car, the wasteland rushed by. Recognizing their need for speed, the group had elected to take the Bat Racer - the fastest custom vehicle in Batman's arsenal. The twin rocket engines on the back were howling furiously, propelling them nearly fast enough to turn the sand to glass underneath them. 

In the distance, surrounded by the remnants of other fractured buildings, the imposing silhouette of Octan Tower grew steadily closer. Despite having been ravaged by aliens for years, it was still the tallest building in what remained of Bricksburg. As such, it was not particularly hard to find. 

Upon arriving at the base of the tower and clamoring out of the car, Lucy and the others surveyed the area around the building, searching for any signs of Emmet. 

“Emmet!” Lucy shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Emmet, are you out here?” She paced nervously in front of the main entrance, worry gnawing at her gut.

“Avast!” Metalbeard exclaimed from around the corner of the building. At the sound of his voice, Lucy ran over to see him gesturing toward the twisted remains of some kind of motorcycle.  

“Is that Emmet’s?” Benny asked, floating closer towards the wreck.

“Yar, most likely,” Metalbeard nodded. “The engine still be hot.”

Lucy felt dizzy. “But if this is here, then where is Emmet?”

“Look,” Batman said, pointing towards the building. “There are tire tracks on the windows.”

“You be thinking he done rode up vertically?” Metalbeard asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully with a metallic claw. 

Tracing the tracks upwards, they could see a freshly broken away section of the building - a gaping hole in the glass with fragments of debris still flaking off and falling away.

“Okay,” Lucy said, breaking the tense silence. “Odds are that Emmet went in there. How can we-”

“On it,” Batman interrupted, lunging towards the Racer. With a trained Master Builder hand, he quickly stripped the vehicle apart, reassembling it into a sleek plane. “All aboard,” he barked, leaping into the cockpit. The other three followed him in, and with a tremendous roar the jet took off, streaking up the side of the skyscraper. 

Elegantly, Batman piloted the jet through the hole in the side of the building, landing it in a clear enough spot for everyone to disembark. 

Climbing out of the plane, they took a moment to look around. The room they were in was an utter disaster zone. Fragments of debris, miscellaneous office supplies, and the occasional robotic limb were littered around the room. A number of desks had been tipped over, and now laid on their side, surrounded by broken chunks of computer monitors and piles of official looking paperwork. In one corner, a beaten-up copier sat by itself, intermittently spitting out blank papers.  

Lucy moved away from the plane, shards of glass and wall crunching under her feet as she maneuvered around the larger pieces of debris. On her left, the room opened up into a narrow hallway. Above the entrance, a laminated sign read “Super-Ultra Top Secret Relics This Way”. Hanging slightly below it, a second sign read “Enter at Your Own Risk”.

Peering into the corridor, Lucy’s view was illuminated by the subtle red glow of laser grids. Beyond them, she could just barely see the rotating head of a sentry turret. Beyond that, there was only darkness and deeply concerning noises. 

Unsettled, she turned away from the hallway, shifting her focus towards another worrisome aspect of the room - a giant hole that had been blasted out of the neighboring wall.

“Jeez,” Lucy breathed, stepping closer. “What could have caused that?”

On cue, Rex appeared in the mouth of the hole, holding some kind of large gray tube in his hands.

“Huh,” he looked at the others in surprise before smiling cheerfully. “Uh, hey guys. What’s up?”

“Emmet!” Lucy cried out as she ran up to him. She stopped just short of embracing him to cast a quizzical glance towards the object he held in his arms. “Uh…” She gestured vaguely towards the tube. “What exactly is that?”

“It be a powerful relic,” Metalbeard exclaimed in astonishment, striding towards Rex in order to examine the object more thoroughly. 

“Really?” Benny floated closer as well. “But, uh, what  _ actually  _ is it?” 

“Unless I be mistaken,” Metalbeard said reverently. “This be the Tape-estry of Ducks!”

Rex frowned. “That’s a stupid name. It doesn’t even have any ducks on it.”

“Me thinks it be a metaphor.” Metalbeard shrugged. “Regardless, legend says that anything ye stick onto its surface will remain stuck for all eternity!”

Lucy gasped. “Emmet! Are you sure you should you be holding that?”

“Relax Lucy,” Rex laughed. “I’ve got it covered.” Holding the tape up, he explained. “Only one side was sticky, so I just rolled it up a little. That way I only have to touch the safe side.”

“Ooh…” Benny nodded appreciably. “That’s super clever, Emmet.”

“Yeah, that’s cool or whatever,” Batman muttered. “Totally what I would have done, you know.”

“Wow Emmet,” Lucy pressed a hand to her temple, shaking her head in amazement. “You  _ actually  _ pulled it off. I’m…” She looked up at him, an apologetic smile playing on her lips. “I’m sorry I doubted you.” 

Rex shrugged, struggling to keep his expression cavalier. “It, uh, it wasn't that big of a deal.”

"Not a big deal!?” Metalbeard exclaimed. “Mayhaps you hit your head, matey.” Plucking the relic from Rex’s hands, he carefully turned it over in his hands to admire it. “Any pirate worth their salt knows that whenever ye be laying your hands on some treasure, it be cause for a celebratory shindig!”

“Yeah!” Benny reached over, clapping Rex on the shoulder. “We haven’t had a party in ages, maybe it’ll be fun!”

Rex smiled as his friends started chattering away, eagerly planning a party. The expression sat easily on his face. This kind of reaction was much closer to what he’d been expecting. It almost felt nice, just being with his friends again. 

_ ******************* _

Rex was loath to admit it, but the party turned out pretty cool. The music was intense and loud, the floor was already sticky with spilled drinks, and the whole place stank of sweat and body spray. It wasn't necessarily a  _ fun  _ party, but it was definitely a  _ cool  _ one. 

Given the number of people attending, they'd been forced to use the Bat Fortress, as it was the largest available space in Apocalypseburg. However, considering Batman's infatuation with high-end speakers, as well as his recent installation of a snazzy new lighting rig, the fortress was actually a top notch choice for a party venue.

Despite its enormity however, the place still managed to feel claustrophobic. Swarms of people, crushingly close to each other, moved across the dance floor in seemingly random patterns. 

In the center of the giant room, raised on a makeshift pedestal, was the relic. The Tape-estry was still rolled up for safety, a wise decision considering that a number of fights had already broken out on the dance floor. 

Above all the ruckus, smaller groups sat on the suspended catwalks, talking amongst themselves and generally seeming above it all. Among them sat Lucy, another passive observer of the chaos below.  

Batman, the self-appointed DJ, put on another song. It was something loud and angry sounding, comprised of shouted vocals and industrial noise. It wasn't one that Rex had heard before, but he found himself enjoying it as he started making his way over to where Lucy was perched. 

As he pushed through the crowd, people kept slapping him on the back, congratulating him and shouting banal phrases about how  _ they'd always known he had it in him _ , or whatever. That bitter sense of resentment still simmered in his gut, but Rex couldn't deny that, at the same time, something like pride was slowly joining it. He'd finally gotten everyone to see him, see how tough he could be, see the person he was underneath Emmet's saccharine schtick.

There was one person that needed to see the new Emmet more than anyone else, one person that could undo all his hard work if she didn't. Lucy's opinion of Emmet could make or break Rex's entire plan. 

It was for that reason, and that reason only, that Rex clambered up to her place on the catwalk. 

"Pretty rad party, right?" He shouted as he approached.

"Yeah," Lucy turned at the sound of his voice. "It's uh, it's great, Emmet. Listen, I, uh..."

Her voice trailed off. Rex sat down beside her, watching her expression shift and grow thoughtful. 

"I just..." Lucy scooted closer to him, pulling Rex into her arms. "I'm really glad that you're safe."

Stupefied, Rex wrapped his arms around her in return, pressing his palms against her jacket's velvety back. 

"I'm proud of you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it didn't need to be any louder. Rex felt the words more than he heard them. He clutched at her like a drowning man, squeezing her tight against himself. The strains of discordant music faded into the background. He couldn't think of anything; for a moment, everything was just soft and warm and perfect. 

Lucy patted him on the back, and instinctively he let go. It had been a sort of signal that the two had developed when it became clear that Emmet liked hugs a lot more than Lucy did. It wasn't to say that she didn't enjoy them, just that Emmet tended to hug longer than she was comfortable with. 

Rex leaned back, out of her space. She was still smiling up at him, and distantly, Rex could feel a dopey grin mirrored on his own face.

She reached out to take his hand, slipping her fingers in between his own. 

"I love you, Emmet."

"I love you t-"

Rex cut himself off with a sharp inhale, the sudden breath causing him to cough profusely. 

"I just- I need a drink." Quickly, before she could protest, Rex shoved himself off the platform, dropping into the crowd below. 

He didn't run to the drink table, electing instead to turn and race out a side door, out into the chill evening. The brisk air felt nice, as his skin suddenly seemed entirely too hot and clammy. From behind him, he could hear Lucy's voice asking the other partygoers if they'd seen where he'd gone.

Rex snorted. Of course she was looking for him. Now that he was tough, she and the others actually wanted him around.

This was proof that Rex was doing the right thing. It was proof that Emmet had to change so that his friends wouldn't abandon him. 

It was proof that Rex should have just listened when his friends had tried to toughen him up all those years ago. 

It was proof that if he had just been tough, then they wouldn't have left him  _ there _ . 

Rex slumped down against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. He hadn't listened back then. He'd chosen to cling to childish naivety, chosen to do things the hard way. A cold but familiar voice in the back of his head whispered how, in the end, it had really been his own fault that he'd spent so long in Undar.

This was his own mistake to fix. But, it was at least a mistake that he knew how to fix. In less than a week now, he would finally be successful. When Emmet returned, toughened up and accepted by his friends, the mistakes of the past would disappear. 

He would never admit it, but Rex was afraid of not existing. It was an uncomfortable idea to consider. Of course, as he routinely reminded himself, it wasn't like dying. He-  _ Rex _ would still exist, just with a different backstory, a different set of memories. 

In the end, that's what he wanted. After all, the only way for him to move on, to get over Undar, was to make sure that it never happened in the first place. Losing those memories would fix him. It would fix everything. It had to. 

Until then, he just had to stick to the plan.  


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to everyone still reading this story! I promise I am not dead, just a naive fool with poor time management skills...  
> Me, back in May: Ah man, now that I'm out of school I'll have so much time to write!  
> Me, in July, working 10 hours a day: Ah man, once my summer job's over I'll have so much time to write!  
> Me, in September, moving across the country and attending a month's work of training for my new job: AH MAN, ONCE THIS IS OVER- 
> 
> Regardless! I was able to get a good chunk written this past week and finish the art I promised (see the link at the end of the chapter). This whole section about Emmet was *supposed* to just be one chapter, but it'll definitely be at least two. I'll post the next one as soon as I'm done proof-reading it. 
> 
> Also, to address LessSadS'moreHappy's question on the last chapter - Rex isn't forgoing his plans for Ourmomaggedon as much as he is re-prioritizing it. Since he did technically succeed in causing Ourmomaggedon in the previous timeline, I imagine that he already got that sense of cathartic release. As a result, it doesn't feel as pressing or important anymore, meaning that he's able to focus more single-mindedly on his plan with Emmet. That doesn't mean that he's forgotten about that goal entirely tho... :)
> 
> I'm going to stop rambling now. Thanks for reading!

Emmet was crouched down, his eyes just barely peeking over the edge of the windowsill. Outside, past the thick, cold glass and a long stretch of the glastroid’s sheer surface, a second ship rested at an awkward angle. 

The ship was probably white under all the dust, with long fuchsia fins and blue domed windows. In random places across its surface, faded stickers had begun peeling away from the hull. More interesting than its physical appearance however, was the fact that it appeared to be utterly and completely dead. 

There were no lights or movement that Emmet could see, and Trinity’s readout when they initially landed had confirmed that the ship was, for all intents and purposes, inactive. 

Of course, that didn’t mean that Emmet was any less afraid of the thing. 

Watching the ship from his hiding spot, he tried desperately to push his fears to the back of his mind. He was a starship captain now. He was  _ supposed _ to be tough now. And yet, here he was, cowering from a long abandoned ship. 

He wasn’t especially afraid that the aliens might hurt him. He had, after all, been living in Apocalypseburg for years now and, even before that, there had been the events of Taco Tuesday. Threats of physical harm weren’t particularly alarming to him anymore. 

What Emmet was afraid of, truly afraid of, was that he’d do the wrong thing. That he’d let his little team down, and then they’d look at him with that same pitying stare as the others, and it would prove that everyone had been right about him all along. 

Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t be this worried, that his successful landing the day before should serve as proof of his abilities. But the fear still sat low in his gut, lurking like a shape under the water, whispering up at him that he just hadn’t let everyone down  _ yet _ . 

He tried to push the feeling away, tried to cover it up by imagining for the hundredth time how his return to Apocalypseburg would pan out. The swelling music, the applause of the raptor crew, the faces of his friends turning to joy as they realized that Emmet was back and, more importantly, that he was  _ better _ . Things would finally be like they had been before, in that one shining moment left in the wake of Taco Tuesday. The moment when people had called him a hero. 

The way his chest clenched at the thought was stronger than any fear. 

“ _ CAPTAIN! _ ” A shrill voice rang out from behind him, causing Emmet to jolt in surprise. Turning, he could see the silhouette of a raptor approaching. 

“ _ CAPTAIN, _ ” Tiberius repeated herself solemnly. “ _ WE NEED YOU… ON THE BRIDGE. _ ”

“Oh, uh,” Emmet leapt to his feet. “Of course!” Hastily pasting a cheery grin across his cheeks, he trotted off after Tiberius. 

Upon entering the bridge, Emmet could tell that the little crew had been hard at work. Hawkeye was still in the sickbay, preoccupied with taking care of The Other One, but the other three had clearly been prepping for a while. Hovering in front of the main windshield was a detailed holographic image of the enemy ship. Little arrows and snippets of text rotated around the display, highlighting various details and areas of the ship.  

Emmet gawked at the floating image momentarily, before Trinity drew his attention back to the moment.

“ _ CAPTAIN, _ ” she screeched, “ _ WE HAVE SUCCESSFULLY LOCATED A WEAKNESS IN THE ENEMY BASE. _ ” 

With a long tapered claw, she gestured towards a massive, complicated machine that seemed to occupy the majority of the ship’s interior. “ _ THIS IS THEIR CENTRAL ENGINE. _ ” She turned back to Emmet. “ _ WHEN YOU DESTROY IT, THE SHIP WILL BE RENDERED COMPLETELY NONFUNCTIONAL. _ ” 

“I- Destroy it?” Emmet paled. “Couldn’t Snake do that part? Not- uh, not that I couldn’t, but I’m pretty sure she’s got like, three bombs on her right now.”

“ _ YOU’RE RIGHT, _ ” Snake hissed, “ _ BUT UNFORTUNATELY, THIS IS A REQUIRED PART OF THE SEMINAR. _ ”

“So what,” Emmet asked hesitantly. “You’ll just…  _ loan _ me a bomb?”

“ _ NO. _ ” Snake stepped closer. “ _ YOU HAVE TO BREAK IT YOURSELF. YOU HAVE TO BECOME A MASTER BREAKER. _ ”

“A… Master Breaker?”

“ _ LIKE REX. _ ” Trinity explained. “ _ A MASTER BREAKER IS SOMEONE WHO CAN REDUCE ANY STRUCTURE TO ITS CONSTITUENT COMPONENTS WITH A SINGLE BLOW. _ ”

Emmet stared at her blankly.

“ _ THEY BREAK STUFF WITH PUNCHING, _ ” she sighed.

“And… you think I can do that?” His voice grew small. 

Tiberius smiled down at him, as friendly as a velociraptor was capable of. “ _ WE KNOW… YOU CAN. _ ”

_ ******************* _

“So uh,” Emmet whispered, shivering despite the thick fabric of his spacesuit. “Why do we have to go so far just to practice?”

Snake twisted her long neck to face him. “ _ MASTER BREAKING IS NOT EXACTLY SUBTLE. IT WOULD NOT DO WELL TO ALERT THE ENEMY TO OUR PRESENCE. _ ” 

“Makes sense,” Emmet muttered, glancing once again over his shoulder towards the distant pair of ships. “What, um,” his voice faltered. “What do we do now?”

Trinity clicked a button on her belt and a translucent screen flickered to life in front of her. Emmet couldn’t see the screen clearly, but it appeared to be covered in writing. Messy writing, he guessed, by the way Trinity squinted and cocked her head in confusion. 

After a moment, she turned to face him. “ _ YOU HAVE TO THINK ABOUT SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU MAD. _ ”

“What… makes me mad?” Emmet repeated, dumbfounded. Suddenly feeling very much like he was taking an unannounced pop quiz, he glanced around at the other raptors, as if one of them might somehow give him the answer. 

“ _ WHAT MAKES YOU MAD? _ ” Trinity repeated herself, her eyes bearing down towards him.

“I- I don’t,” Emmet stammered. “I don’t know. I’m uh, actually pretty easy-going.”

Trinity’s eyes narrowed. “ _ IF YOU WANT THIS TO WORK, _ ” she screeched, “ _ YOU NEED TO BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF. _ ” 

He stared back mutely, his throat feeling abruptly like it belonged to someone else.

“ _ WHAT MAKES YOU MAD, EMMET? _ ”

Unbidden, images of Apocalypseburg flashed through his head. Thoughts of people dismissing him or ignoring him played over and over in his mind’s eye. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but he could still see them.

“I, uh, maybe when people d- don’t use their blinkers?” He tried desperately. “Or- or when I forget about my coffee and it gets cold?”

Trinity simply shook her head.

_ WHAT _

He thought about President Business, about how the man that was supposed to be in charge, supposed to  _ care _ about them, had just left them behind as soon as it became inconvenient. 

_ MAKES _

He thought about Lucy, about the edge in her voice whenever she’d remind him how he needed to grow up. He could see that dreadfully familiar look of pity in her eyes each time he failed to do so. 

_ YOU _

He thought about his other friends: Batman, Benny, Metalbeard, Unikitty. He felt that gut-deep ache of being ignored, being left out  _ again _ . 

_ M A D ? _

“I DON’T _KNOW!_ ” Emmet hollered. Shocked at his own outburst, he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he could shove the words back in. 

Trinity and the others just looked at him with that same terrible pity as his other friends. He dropped his head, feeling the flush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. As the crew quietly walked back to the ship, he kept his head down, absent-mindedly watching his feet trudge along. His reflection looked back up at him from the glassy blue rocks. The slippery surface made the image of his face quiver and swim, and it was easy to pretend that it was the only reason his eyes looked so awful watery. 

The heavy silence lasted until they entered the ship, when it became glaringly obvious that something was terribly wrong. Neither Hawkeye nor The Other One were in sickbay, nor any of the other rooms that the crew frantically checked. 

“ _ THEY’RE… GONE! _ ” Tiberius wailed.   

“But why?” Emmet asked, trying desperately to shake himself out of his earlier funk in order to focus on the situation at hand. “Could- Could they have just gone for a walk maybe?”

“ _ NO. _ ” Snake hissed coldly. “ _ THE ALIENS TOOK ADVANTAGE OF OUR ABSENCE. THEY WERE  _ TAKEN.”

Trinity shook her head dejectedly. “ _ WE UNDERESTIMATED THEM... _ ”

“What- what do we do?” Emmet asked, his breath catching in his throat. 

“ _WE SHOULD RETREAT._ ” Trinity answered solemnly. “ _AFTER ALL, WE PINPOINTED THE LOCATION OF THE ENEMY BASE. THAT’S VALUABLE INFORMATION THAT NEEDS TO BE RETURNED TO THE REXCELSIOR._ ”

“You want… to leave them?” Emmet’s voice was soft with disbelief.

She met his gaze coolly. “ _ WE AREN’T READY TO STAGE A RESCUE MISSION. _ ”

“ _ YOU’VE PROVEN AS MUCH, _ ” Snake scoffed. “ _ WE’LL JUST WAIT UNTIL REX COMES BACK. _ ”

“No!” Emmet sputtered, his face growing hot. “W- We can’t just leave them behind! Please, I can do this. I promise!”

“ _ CAPTAIN, _ ” Tiberius hissed softly, crouching down to his level. “ _ IT’S ALRIGHT. A RESCUE MISSION… WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE A PART… OF THE SEMINAR. _ ”

“Okay,” he countered. “But learning how to take control of a situation and lead a team is part of the seminar, right?”

The raptors nodded hesitantly. 

“So,” Emmet continued before he could change his mind. “How about I take control of this situation and lead this team on a rescue mission?”

Quickly, the raptors exchanged a few, fleeting glances with each other.

“ _ ALRIGHT THEN, _ ” they said, looking back towards Emmet. “ _ WHAT’S THE PLAN, CAPTAIN? _ ”

_ ******************* _

Vents… are not fun to crawl through, Movies lie. Emmet was more disappointed than he would have admitted. He didn’t feel like a cool action hero at all. Mostly, he felt cramped and sweaty. 

“ _ ARE YOU NEARLY THERE? _ ” Snake’s voice crackled through the speaker of his walkie-talkie. Emmet grunted as he struggled to pull the device towards his face. 

“Uh, ye-urgh, yeah!” His voice echoed in the narrow duct. “Yeah, I’m like, probably a hundred feet out?” He guessed, trying to visualize the map from earlier in his head. 

“ _ ROGER THAT. _ ” Snake’s voice vanished into the hiss of white noise, which sputtered momentarily before Emmet could click the radio back into place on his belt. 

With a grunt, he pulled himself back up onto his elbows, the metal groaning underneath him. Emmet paused for a second, but it was too late. With a slow, ear-splitting squeal, the bottom of the duct fell away, depositing him rather unceremoniously onto the cold floor below. 

Emmet yelped as he hit the floor, a jolt of pain shooting up his spine. 

Behind him, another voice yelped too. 

In a panic, Emmet leapt to his feet, spinning about to face… someone he absolutely did not recognize. 

The figure in front of him was seated in a tall, high-tech chair, illuminated on all sides by walls of dimly glowing monitors, each displaying seemingly random strings of garbled text. With a motorized whirr, the figure’s chair spun about and the monitors flicked off simultaneously, dropping the room into darkness. 

Emmet blinked frantically, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. For a moment, all he could see was a pair of glowing green eyes, growing steadily closer. 

“HELLO.” A grating, metallic voice crackled from somewhere in front of him. “WHO ARE YOU?”

“I, uh,” Emmet stumbled backwards, groping around his belt for the suit’s emergency light. “I- my name’s Emmet...”

His light clicked on, catching the mysterious figure in an impromptu spotlight. The yellow beam glinted off of their dark armor, accented with all kinds of buttons and bands that gently pulsed an acidic green color. 

Their eyes narrowed from the sudden brightness, but didn’t waver from Emmet’s direction. They stared at him from behind a thick metal mask, a helmet split down the middle by some sort of intricate, hissing valve. As the figure continued to stride closer, closing the gap between them, a long purple cape swirled around their feet. 

“I DO NOT RECOGNIZE THAT NAME.” The masked figure studied him intensely, their head cocked to one side in confusion. “ARE YOU… FROM BRICKSBURG?”

“Um,” Emmet choked out a response. “A- Actually we’re calling it Apocalypseburg now...”

“I SEE.” The figure’s helmet wheezed. They were directly in front of Emmet now, and he had to look down slightly to meet their gaze. “HOW VERY CONSIDERATE. WE WERE, OF COURSE, PLANNING ON VISITING EVENTUALLY, BUT IT IS AWFULLY KIND OF ‘ALPACA-LIPS-BURG’ TO COME TO USE INSTEAD.”

“And who, uh,” Emmet forced himself to ask. “Who are you exactly?”

The figure’s face was obscured, but Emmet could hear the smile in their words. “I AM MAJOR CATASTROPHE. I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THE S.S. GEMINI.”

“The… Gemini? You mean this ship?”

“OF COURSE.” Catastrophe reached up with a metallic claw, grasping the “R” shaped patch on Emmet’s suit. “AND YOU ARE THE CAPTAIN OF THE REX-EXPLORER, ARE YOU NOT?” 

His mouth dropped. “How did you-”

“YOUR CREWMATES TOLD ME, SILLY BILLY.” The claw retracted. “YOU WILL BE HAPPY TO KNOW THAT THE INJURED ONE IS FEELING MUCH BETTER. MUCH HAPPIER.” 

“Oh, that- that’s good.” Taken by surprise, Emmet couldn’t help but feel relieved before the reality of the situation came crashing back. “Wait, no! Not good!”

“NOT? GOOD?”

“You kidnapped her! You kidnapped both of them!” Emmet pointed an accusing finger down at the Major. “And you need to give them back right now!”

Catastrophe laughed. It was a weird sort of metallic wheezing, like a squeaky radiator that someone’s father had been promising to fix for years now. 

“I- ” Emmet froze, his anger dissipating in the face of Catastrophe’s clear disregard. “I’m not joking…”

Clapping him over the shoulder with a gloved hand, Catastrophe started pulling him towards the doorway at the end of the room. “THEY WILL BE STAYING. YOU ARE, OF COURSE, MOST WELCOME TO STAY HERE AS WELL, EMMA.”

“It’s Emmet-”

“I WILL HAVE NOVEL COME FETCH YOU,” the Major continued, oblivious to Emmet’s interjection. 

“Wh- Novel?” He stammered, trying futilely to pull himself out of Catastrophe’s literal iron grip. “Is that a person? Who is that?”

“SHE IS THE PILOT.” Catastrophe raised a claw to press one of the gleaming green insets in his armor. “I AM CALLING HER NOW. SHE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU UNTIL THE TOUR CAN BEGIN.”

“What...” Emmet looked at the strange figure. “And what will you be doing?”

They laughed again. “I WILL GO COLLECT THE REST OF YOUR CREW, OF COURSE. WE CAN’T HAVE THE SHOW WITHOUT EVERYONE PRESENT. GOODBYE, ELLIOT.”

Emmet’s heart leapt in his throat. “W-w-wait!” Before he could interrupt however, the Major shoved him out into the hall, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. 

For a moment, Emmet just stared at the doorway. As if in a trance, he reached for his walkie-talkie. In slow-motion, he raised it up to his mouth. But, upon clicking the button, the radio stayed frustratingly silent. It was dead. It was rather narratively convenient. 

“Hey.” A voice shook him out of his thoughts. Turning a bit to look down the hall, he spotted a tall woman approaching him. Her suit was a much lighter purple than Catastrophe’s, and her face was unobscured. She had a short copper-colored ponytail, disinterested amber eyes, and warm brown skin that creased into well-worn divots at the corners of her frown. 

She stopped next to Emmet, staring down at him impassively. “Are you gonna bite me?”

“What?”

“Are you. Going to. Bite me?” She repeated in a clearly exasperated tone. 

“I, uh, wasn’t planning to?”

“Good,” she continued dryly. “Maybe you could convince some of your crewmates to think the same way.”

“Yeah, sure.” Emmet nodded, still stupefied. 

“So,” she gestured for him to follow. “I’ll show you to your room then.”

 “I- ” His voice trailed off. He was rapidly losing any semblance of control over this situation, and the panicked voice in the back of his head was growing ever louder. A part of him wanted to make a break for it - take off down the hall, try and find his crewmates, and then sneak back to the Rex-plorer together. 

But… he knew that plan had a very low probability of working. The wisest choice was to go along with the aliens for now, giving himself a chance to regain his bearings, learn more about his enemies, and allow himself time to think of a plan. 

“Ok,” he finally agreed, and began to trail after her, albeit at a distance. 

She shrugged and set off down the long, cold hallway. 

They walked in silence for a while, the tension growing until Emmet couldn’t stand it any longer.

“So,” he croaked awkwardly, before quickly covering up the sound with a cough to clear his throat. “You, uh, you’re Novel, right?”

“Oh my god.” She seethed, her expression swiftly transforming into one of smoldering rage. “My name is  _ NOVA _ . That robotic dingus just can’t ever seem to get it right.”

Emmet couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess I shouldn’t wait for them to get mine right then either?”

Nova shook her head. “Sometimes I’m surprised they can even remember their own name.”

“So, uh,” he paused for a second to wrangle his expression into something more cavalier. “What exactly do you guys  _ do _ here?”

“What do we… do?” Nova looked at him blankly.

“Yeah, I- um, the creepy robo-dude said you were a pilot?”

Nova sighed. “Yeah,  _ technically _ .”

“How does someone  _ ‘technically’  _ pilot?” Emmet asked, genuine interest seeping through his bravado. 

Stopping abruptly, Nova turned slightly to face him.

“I… We...” She paused again, her expression shifting as she thought, the crease between her eyebrows growing deeper.

“The Gemini is… non-operational. It has been for a while.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m a pilot on a ship that doesn’t work, a ship that literally doesn’t even have the power to turn on the lights half of the time, much less  _ fly _ .” 

“So,” she turned back around with a sharp shrug. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a pilot anymore given all I ever do is clean the place up, wander around aimlessly, and occasionally try to beat the Major’s score at Meteor Blasters.” 

“Oh,” Emmet breathed. “I’m sorry.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before Emmet once again remembered where he was.

“Wait,” he snapped. “No, I’m not. You guys are like, evil aliens!”

“Uh,” Nova stared at him blankly over her shoulder. “No? I mean, we are  _ aliens  _ sure, but like, the Gemini is a diplomatic vessel.”

Emmet scoffed.

Nova’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously dude, I don’t think this thing even has weapons on it.” 

“Uh,” Emmet frowned. “I’m like 80% sure that other guy had laser eyes.”

“No, he’s just thinks it’s neat to make them glow.”

“But...” his voice stumbled out. “Then what’s the deal with you guys? Why are you out here? Why were you trying to get to Bricks- Apocalypseburg, I mean.”

“Well,” Nova sighed. “It all started about three years ago...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link for art: https://thisspaceintentionallyleftblank.tumblr.com/post/189005085577/hey-hey-heres-some-art-for-chapter-7-of-try-try


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that left such lovely comments on the last chapter! You guys made my whole week :D
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention this last time, but Bonus Points to anyone that can guess why the ship is named the Gemini....

ABOUT THREE YEARS AGO

Bianca opened the door with one hand, carefully balancing her newest spaceship in the other. Finn would like _this_ one, she was super sure.

Dad had helped her with the really tricky bits, since some Legos were still too small and finicky for a seven year-old to use, but she had built most of it herself. Plus, she had done all the stickers and decorating as well. 

Looking down the stairs, she couldn’t see any sign of her brother. Tentatively, she set the Gemini aside, placing it on top of one of the many shelves lining the side of the staircase. 

“Finn?” She called out his name as she flounced downstairs, running a careful hand along the banister. The basement was silent in response, aside from the low rumble of the dryer. 

In her brother’s absence, Bianca’s attention turned to the large table where his Legos were set out. The city of Bricksburg looked pretty much the same as when she’d last seen it, which was to say that it looked pretty rough. The last time that they’d “played” together, they had ended up arguing over a particularly cool minifigure and Bianca had accidentally smashed her elbow into one of the taller skyscrapers, totally destroying it. And then, when Finn tried to swoop in and catch the top of the building, he had only succeeded in toppling its neighbor as well. 

Bianca frowned at the memory. She hadn’t meant to break the tower, and she hadn’t meant to make Finn so grumpy either. It seemed like everything she did made him mad though, and he never wanted to play the same games as her either. 

She looked over towards where Finn kept his favorite minifigures. He almost always played with the same ones, and he never let her play with any of them, even though he had so many. 

Bianca reached over, plucking Batman’s figure from where he’d been positioned behind some kind of turret gun. 

Batman was the coolest of all Finn’s superheros, Bianca thought. Her brother had given her some other ones, like Wonder Woman and the green guy, a while back so that she’d stop bothering him about it. And then, he hid Batman for a while. She didn’t know how long, but it seemed like approximately the amount of time it takes to produce a feature length animated film... or something. 

Regardless, he was back now. 

Bianca liked Batman because he seemed lonely, like he needed a friend to give him hugs or throw him a party. Sometimes she felt lonely like that, but she had her mom and dad, and from what she’d heard, Batman didn’t. 

Holding him in her hand, Bianca wondered if Batman missed his superhero friends. They were all up in her room, maybe she ought to take-

The door to the stairs opened with a bang.

“Bianca?” Finn called out as he raced down the stairs. “You better not have broken anything. That new tank took me hours to build.”

He pulled up next to her, inspecting the area for damage. 

“I didn’t break your dumb tank.” Bianca stuck her tongue out at his back. “I just came down here to show you something.” She turned to go retrieve the Gemini when Finn suddenly whipped around. 

“Where’s Batman?” He exclaimed. “He’s supposed to be piloting the whole thing.”

“He’s right here!” Bianca extended her arm, the plastic figure still clenched in her hand. 

“Give him back!” Finn grabbed her wrist with one hand and began to pull at Batman with the other.

“Hey!” Bianca yelped. “Let go!”

Finn released her arm and pressed the fist holding Batman against his chest, as if to shield it from her. “You’ve got to stop taking my guys, Bianca,” he muttered darkly.

“I wasn’t taking him,” Bianca bristled. “I was just looking!”

“Uh huh,” Finn scowled. “The same way you were ‘just looking’ at the Justice League?”

“You _gave_ me those guys!”

“Did not!” Finn rebutted. “And I want them back.”

“You can’t do that,” Bianca wailed.

“Can so.”

“Argh!” Bianca tugged at her hair and screamed just a little bit. “You’re the _worst!_ ”

Angrily, she stomped up the stairs as loudly as she could, and slammed the door behind her.

Finn’s expression sagged. Quietly, he turned back to his worktable and placed Batman into his seat. As he did so, his attention fell on the little vehicle nearly obscured by Batman’s tank. Gently, he picked the little car up, opened the door, and removed Emmet’s figurine. 

Holding the construction worker tenderly in his palm, Finn couldn’t help but remember all the cool adventures he had made up for his little buddy. About a month ago, when they were shopping for new school supplies, his mom had bought him a big notebook just for writing down some of his stories. He had already filled out a good handful of the pages and had even let Bianca draw in some illustrations. 

He had taken the notebook with him when he went to middle school orientation last week. When the teacher had made his small group go around and share, he had told them that his name was Finn and he liked to play with his Legos and write stories. 

Afterwards, a couple of the kids had asked to see his notebook, and he’d nervously complied. They read through the first few pages, and then most of them seemed to get kind of bored. One kid flipped through the whole book really fast, stopping abruptly on a picture of Unikitty that sprawled messily across both pages. 

The kid laughed, and Finn felt his stomach churn. He suddenly felt like the whole world was ending and the only thing that would stop it would be to snatch his notebook back and hide it somewhere far away. But, the other kids were still holding it and so he’d probably just rip it if he tried. 

“Um, actually,” he stammered, “that one is my _sister’s_ character. Mine, uh, mine has huge fangs and huge claws and uh, can shoot missiles.”

The kids tittered appreciatively at the thought of missiles and cool explosions, but it didn’t make Finn feel as good as he thought it would have. 

Looking down at Emmet, all Finn could see now were the things he _couldn’t_ do. He couldn’t shoot missiles, or do backflips, or take out bad guys, or impress anyone. He wasn’t cool or tough or important or interesting or special. He was _embarrassing_. 

The sharp plastic edges of the figurine started to jab into Finn’s clammy fingers uncomfortably, causing him to realize how tight his grip had become. Dimly, Finn knew that he wasn’t really upset at Emmet, that it was silly to be upset at a toy. But given that he was a ten year-old boy, the idea of disliking a thinly veiled self-insert was a much more palatable concept than the alternative. 

Setting Emmet back down, Finn turned away, walking up the stairs and out of the basement. As he did so, he failed to notice the newest addition to the downstairs’ collection, and so the Gemini was left to collect dust. 

 

_*******************_

 

“Wow, Nova,” Emmet grinned. “That was a really great story. And so well told, too. I’m really glad I heard it and not like, some kind of fourth-wall breaking, real world analog instead.”

“Pssh,” Nova scoffed, an embarrassed flush rising on her ears. “It was whatever.”

Suddenly, her comm blipped loudly. Nova reached down, pressing a button on her belt to accept the call, and Catastrophe’s voice blasted out. 

“HELLO? NOBLE?” 

She sighed. “Literally who else would it be, Major?”

“GOOD POINT.” Catastrophe coughed awkwardly, causing a jolt of feedback. “ANYWAYS, I HAVE RETRIEVED THE REST OF GROMMET’S CREW AND WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU DOWN BY THE MAIN ENGINE.”

 “Oh!” Nova’s expression brightened. “Alright, we’ll be down in a minute.”

“ALSO PLEASE BRING SOME BAND-AIDS.”

Nova said something in response, but Emmet didn’t hear it. 

 _The main engine_ , he thought. _That’s what I’m supposed to destroy._ Nova’s story still echoed in his mind however, and he couldn’t help but feel ashamed for thinking about destroying a lost and unarmed ship. 

His guide turned toward him, oblivious to his current thoughts. “Come on, dude,” she smiled gently. “You’re gonna love this.”

Quietly, Emmet followed.

_*******************_

The engine was big. 

Logically, Emmet had known this. He’d seen it on the map earlier, and he remembered thinking to himself _wow, that’s pretty big_. 

However, seeing it in person, he was utterly struck with the realization that the engine was BIG. 

It was at least two, if not three, stories tall, and it seemed to stretch back infinitely into the ship. The fact that it was constructed out of millions of intricate interlocking pieces only added to the illusion, giving it complexity and depth. 

Even though it was completely off, the way that his eyes couldn’t help but trace the convoluted gears and tracks and tubing of the machine gave it the illusion of movement.

Beside him, Nova nudged his shoulder. “It’s pretty, isn’t it.”

Still bewildered, Emmet couldn’t do much more than nod in mute agreement.

“When it’s on,” she pointed up towards an array of delicate shapes and figures littering the engine, “those all dance and twirl and spin around.” Half turned towards her, Emmet could see how her amber eyes seemed to glow with raw adoration. She was smiling, _really smiling_ , and in the light of the engine room, he suddenly noticed that she had a spattering of light freckles that sprawled across her dimpled cheeks like constellations. 

“ATTENTION EVERYBODY.” Catastrophe addressed him and the five raptors that were standing morosely in the corner of the room. 

“I UNFORTUNATELY CANNOT TURN ON THE ENGINE FOR YOUR DELIGHT AND AMUSEMENT. AS SUCH, I WOULD LIKE TO ASK YOU TO PLEASE IMAGINE THAT IT IS WHOOSHING AROUND AND BEING REALLY SUPER COOL.”

They gave a stiff bow. “THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.”

For a few minutes, they all stood quietly in front of the engine. Emmet tried his hardest to imagine it in motion, like the Major had requested, and frankly it _did_ seem super cool. Eventually though, Catastrophe spoke up again.

“ATTENTION AGAIN, PLEASE.” They rasped. “IT IS NOW BEDTIME. NOEL, PLEASE ACCOMPANY THE BITEY ONES BACK TO THEIR ROOMS, AND I WILL ESCORT EMILY-”

“Emmet.”

“YES, OF COURSE. I WILL ESCORT _HELMET_ BACK TO HIS ROOM.”  

“Ugh,” Nova grumbled. “Yeah, yeah, alright.” She grabbed the first aid satchel back from the Major and started to herd the raptors out of the room.

“SO,” the Major took Emmet by the elbow and started to lead him down the opposite corridor. “WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE ENGINE?” 

“It’s awesome,” Emmet beamed. “I kinda wish I could see it in action.”

Catastrophe stared at him for a moment, just long enough to make it awkward. “I SEE,” they eventually wheezed before leading him towards his bedroom in relative silence.

When they reached the room, the door hissed open automatically. Emmet stepped into the doorway and couldn’t stop himself from gasping. It was like a luxury hotel room, spacious and well-furnished. He turned back to ask the Major if they’d gotten the right room, but they were gone.   

Alone now, Emmet wandered over to sit on the bed. It was _absurdly_ soft and he couldn’t resist the urge to lie down, pausing only to brush off a few of the decorative pillows and stuffed animals that were taking up the majority of the bed’s surface. In a flash, all his exhaustion caught up to him, and he realized that he probably wasn’t going to get back up until morning.

Absent-mindedly, he picked up one of the stuffed toys that was digging into his side. It was a blue bear, like the one he’d had as a child, long before the world had ended twice-over. 

He frowned. Everything had been so simple this morning, when the Gemini was just a vague threat and there was a straightforward plan to follow. But now, he couldn’t be sure what to do. If he didn’t destroy the engine, then he would fail the seminar and let all his friends down. But if he _did_ destroy it, then Nova and Catastrophe could be stuck here forever. 

Laying on his back, Emmet let his worried thoughts roll through his mind again and again until he slipped into a vague sort of sleep. 

_*******************_

_Apocalypseburg was crumbling. The buildings, the vehicles, even the ground itself was fracturing into a thousand tiny shards. The world was ripping itself apart, accompanied by a symphony of distorted screaming voic-_

_Lucy fell to the ground, hard. A yelp escaped her lips before she could help it. She looked up, her face twisted in pain, a trace of blood trickling past her brow. There was fear in her ey-_

_The Rexcelsior streaked through space, its engines gleaming, clearly working at full power. Suddenly, something unseen struck its side, exploding against the hull in a brilliant blast of light. The ship shuddered, rocked by the force of the explosion, sending small sections of ship careening into the void. Its attacker swerved around, avoiding the debris, their guns shimmering as they prepared another volley._

_It was the Gemini._

_Fully operational._

_Its rear engines were spinning, smearing a shimmering golden trail against the backdrop of spa-_

Emmet jerked awake. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to leap past his ribs altogether. 

 _It was just a dream_ , he thought. _A- a nightmare maybe. Either way, it wasn’t real._

But… it had felt real. 

Suddenly, Emmet realized that he was incredibly uncomfortable. His bed was too warm, despite the thinness of the blanket. He needed to get _out_.

He stood up, feeling the chill of the night air in the sweat on his back. For a moment, he considered calling Rex, telling him about the dream. It usually helped to talk about these things, but… Emmet couldn’t impose. 

 _It hadn’t been_ that _bad of a dream_ , he told himself. He could deal with it himself. He’d just go for a quick walk, just to get his mind off things. That was all. 

He stepped out into the hall. The overhead lights were off, but a thin strip of LEDs near the floor emitted a faint blue glow that allowed him to see well enough. He tried to walk gently, so as not to disturb anyone that might still be sleeping. As he was pacing past the bridge, he stopped to look out the vast window. 

It was so quiet and still. Outside the window, glastroids floated by, slowly spinning past one another. The stars in the distance glimmered, and Emmet felt a little better just watching them. He leaned against the dashboard, cupping his cheek in one hand as he stared dreamily out of the window. 

Suddenly, a light on the dash illuminated. Startled, Emmet pulled back, looking frantically to see what he had accidently touched. But, as he searched, he couldn’t see anything that had been disturbed. 

The light blinked again. Beneath it was a label reading “Engine Status”, and beneath that was a readout displaying the word “ACTIVE”.

Emmet stared at the light in confusion. The cold sensation of dread percolated in the back of his mind. Abruptly, he turned on his heel, stalking out of the door and down the corridor towards the engine room. 

As he approached, he crept quieter and quieter, sticking as low to the ground as he could. He could tell he was getting closer, as the ambient light and noise was steadily increasing. Stopping at the entrance, Emmet peered carefully around the doorway.    

Inside the room, he could see Major Catastrophe pacing in front of the vast engine, which had begun to slowly but steadily turn in an intricate motion. Behind them, Nova was bent over, kneeling in front of the machine, performing some kind of maintenance on it. 

As Emmet watched, she grunted and stood up. The engine started to accelerate, and the metallic hum filling the air increased in both frequency and volume. She walked over to the Major’s side, and Emmet suddenly recognized the piece she had been working on - the fuelcell of the Rexplorer. 

“FINALLY,” Catastrophe rubbed their hands together. “WE WILL MAKE IT TO APOC-LICKS-BURG. FINALLY WE CAN SHOW THEM WHAT WE’RE CAPABLE OF!” 

They begin to laugh, a maniacal and distorted sound. 

“Yeah,” Nova agreed, excitement clear in her voice, “I can’t wait!”

The engine twirled faster now, and the activation lights started blinking from red to green. For a long moment, all three characters simply watched the lightshow.

“Do you think,” Nova asked hesitantly. “That Emmet will be upset?”

“MAYBE.” Catastrophe’s mask was illuminated starkly by the glow of the engine, which continued to grow brighter. “BUT HE WON’T BE FOR VERY LONG.”

In his hiding place, Emmet felt utterly betrayed. He turned away from the upsetting scene, pressing his face into his hands. He had _trusted_ them. He had trusted them, and they had stolen his crew and his fuelcell, and they really were planning on attacking his friends just like he’d seen in his dream.

He pressed his palms into his eyelids, trying in vain to stop the tears that were welling up behind them. 

The things that he’d seen… Apocalypseburg being destroyed, Lucy being hurt… he had to stop it. He had to stop the Gemini. 

With a burst of determination, Emmet wiped his face and rose to his feet. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see that Nova and the Major were still preoccupied with restarting the engine. He would show them that he wasn’t as naive as they thought. 

Setting his expression into something hard, Emmet strode into the engine room.

“You stole our fuelcell?” His voice rang out over the drone of the engine, clear and accusatory.

“Emmet?” Both aliens turned to face him, their shock clear on their faces. 

“EVAN,” Catastrophe started, “YOU DON’T UNDERST-” 

“No!” Emmet shouted, ignoring the heat of tears that had somehow snuck past his anger. “No, I understand PERFECTLY. You thought you could trick me, because I’m… because I’m not _tough._ ”

His voice caught in his throat. “B- But, you’re wrong! I am tough. _And I’ll prove it to you!_ ”

Buoyed by his rage, Emmet ran towards the engine, easily slipping past the others. 

_WHAT MAKES YOU MAD, EMMET?_

Trinity’s voice rang in his ears, louder than the engine, louder than his pounding heart.

_WHAT MAKES YOU MAD?_

_That people doubt me,_ Emmet thought. _That people don’t accept me. That people pity me._

_W H A T   M A K E S   Y O U M A D ?_

_That people don’t think I’m worth anything._

His fist hit the center of the engine. Under his knuckles, the metal screeched. Instantly, the lights flickered, growing to a blinding intensity before dying completely in the blink of an eye. The clockwork pieces and elaborate decorations that had only begun to move seemed to leap from their perches to the unforgiving floor below. There was the sound of things shattering and breaking, the sound of the huge machine grinding to a halt, the sound of its gears chewing themselves to death. 

And then there was silence.  

Panting, Emmet rose to his feet, brushing dust and debris off his suit. Without looking at the others, he moved towards the fuelcell, pulling it effortlessly out of the wreckage. 

“We’ll be leaving now,” he said, his voice cold and flat.

“You… ” Nova fell to her knees, her eyes wide with disbelief. “It can’t be _gone._ ”

Beside her, the Major turned to stare at him with pleading eyes. “BUT,” they wheezed. “ _WHY?_ ”

Emmet walked past them, trying to remember where they’d placed his crewmates. He looked back, just for a second, at the wreckage. 

“You shouldn’t have taken my stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie, what a dream! Good thing it was definitely just a nightmare and not some kind of vision of the future!!


End file.
